


Like Oil & Water

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel Shane Madej, Angel!Shane Madej, BAMF Sara Rubin, Betaed, Demon Ryan Bergara, Demon!Ryan Bergara, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Meetings, Getting Together, He's a bit of an asshole too for a couple of chaps, I wanna say Good Omens but not precisely, Light Angst, Light Domesticity, M/M, Making Up, No Smut, Pining, Protective Shane Madej, Ryan and Sara are best friends, Ryan gets turned into a cat, Shane Madej Being an Idiot, Slow Burn, The stretches i made for some of the reaches i had to do for the plot- whew, Witch!Sara Rubin, but angels here are sort of assholes, crackfic treated seriously, ish, it's basically Shane and Sara co-parenting a cat Ryan, no big emphasis on enemies, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ryan is a demon. Shane is an Angel. Shit’s bound to hit a fan when they actually start to click with one another. All in all? Ryan gets turned into a cat against his will and Shane and Sara are stuck co-parenting.—Excerpt from Chapter 14“A place to stay and convenient workplace. What’s the third stone?”“Me. I’m the third stone, asshole. Can’t believe you don’t consider moving in with your boyfriend a plus.”—Complete :)
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Sara Rubin, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, Shane Madej & Sara Rubin, Steven Lim/Andrew Ilnyckyj (minor)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

_ The frantic knocking at his door became heavier. Who the fuck was that? Quickly, he stumbled to his feet, almost tripping over them in the dark of his apartment, only the kitchen light illuminating the hall down to the door. Ugh. He pulled the door open almost violently- _

__

_ “Shane?” It was Sara on the other side, staring up at him in the dark. Shane blinked a couple of times. Rubbed the crust out of his eyes in the bright of the hallway lights. _

_ “The fuck?” he said. _

_ “Meow.” _

_ Shane drew his gaze down to her arms where she cradled a familiar tabby whose eyes were bright, and pupils large. When they locked eyes, it curled into her arms even more, like it was trying to hide from him. _

— 

It all started in late January.

Shane’s eyes ticked up as he sat among the fervor of the crowded coffee shop. A tickle rested in his nose whilst his eyes darted across the room, searching so frantically he almost dizzied himself jumping from person to person inside the cafe. 

His heightened senses were already aggravated by the clashing bitter-sweetness in the air, but he could  _ still  _ sense them, like an alert that blared in his head. There was something else particularly ethereal here, something that had just recently walked in, and Shane could practically  _ smell  _ them.

The slight hint of sulfur and ash was only detectable to him and so faint he could have almost missed it.

A demon.

He grimaced. Where was it? The hustle and bustle of the room were overwhelming and he almost regretted coming here to try the ambiance so praised by his coworkers. He’ll be damned (not literally) if this chance slips through his fingers again, even if it means smiting it in public.

A man with a new drink in hand walked past his table, a hurried blur of black clothing, and Shane almost gave himself whiplash turning to look at him as he rushed out the door. The drawled scent of rot and suffocating powder stayed sharp in the air where he crossed, and Shane stood up as fast as angelically possible and packed his things back into his bag, fingers fumbling as he watched the guy walk past the windows. 

Searing hot coffee in hand, he pushed past the people at the door and stumbled out onto the sidewalk of Los Angeles. He sniffed the air.

The demon’s scent was still in the air.

Harried, he followed it, eyes unseeing and predatory, unfazed by the cold biting into his skin. Every other thing seemed insignificant as he marched down the road on its tail, honks of displeasure becoming distant as well as offended bystanders pushed aside in his pursuit. If he had any luck, it wouldn’t sense him approaching before he got to it.

Before he knew it, though, he came to a stop in a park, the scent fading and leaving Shane alone with only the overcast sky and unusual silence for a park. Shane glanced around, brows furrowed in confusion and irritation. “Dammit,” he cursed. It’s been weeks since he last got his hands on a demon and the next chance he gets, it slips out of his hands. He almost wishes he could’ve put Gabriel into his place that last time. The prick likes going around stealing kills like it’s a competition. Pfft. As if. 

A breeze drew past, leaves whistling with the wind.

When he turned to leave, he caught it— scented the familiar bitter tang below the copious amounts of sugar before he saw it, really. The lone to-go coffee sitting on a stone table nearby… Shane bit his cheek, approaching it. He looked around, finding no particular person in the area, a tickle of noise only coming from the farther end of the park. He picked up the cup.

It was still warm, decorated with the name “RYAN” scrawled sloppily and the logo of the cafe he’d just bolted out of some ten minutes ago. Beneath the tooth-rotting sweetness of it, faint, sulfur, and ash. It was close. Shane looked around for the presence of others in the park, eyes only returning to a distant gathering by the playgrounds.

The new cup warmed his free hand as Shane stalked towards the noise from earlier. There, down by the playground, adults and children alike were crowded over a candy-cane-shaped relief pipe, a sizable tabby cat weaving through their legs and meowing its heart out in distress. 

Shane almost choked in surprise… sized down to a smaller body, Shane could scent the concentration of sulfur and ash more prominently. What the fuck…? Why was it a cat? What was it doing around here? Did it know Shane was tracking him and gathered a crowd so he couldn’t do it publicly?

Murmurs and voices rose, then, at the end of the crowd where a pair of men in blue hardhats and high-visibility vests arrived. The demon (cat?) started towards them, ping-ponging from the people to the pipe to the workers to the pipe, consistently, mewling before one of the workers petted it and told it that it’s done a good job, and to leave the hard work to the humans now. 

The fuck?

A couple of small, pitifully faint chirps came from within the pipe.

???

Shane watches perplexed with the waiting crowd as the workers carefully cut a window in the pipe to get to the kittens, attention long gone from the tabby cat that had originally gathered the group. The rescue is quick, but worrying since there was only so much space that the workers could cut without having to worry about hurting the kittens. Eventually, though, the two little critters stuck down the pipe popped out of their entrance looking exhausted and dirtied from their time there, fur matted and eyes crusted, the people around them rushing up to see the kittens or help them. The usual thing humans did, swarming to quote-unquote “love” their fellow rejects. 

Shane couldn’t care any less. His attention wasn’t on them, but on the new, shorter man across the wave of people, staring intently at the two coffees he was holding. The black coat he was wearing matched the one that flew past his vision back in the cafe and Shane did little to hide the smirk gracing his face. There it was.

Shane walked towards him, watching the guy grow increasingly uncomfortable as he sidled up beside him, eyeing his cup in Shane’s hands. “Hello, Ryan,” Shane drawled, satisfied at the shorter man’s grimace.

“My name’s not Ryan. Who are you?” He shuffled aside, trying to step away from Shane. He scooted closer.

Shane only grinned further, watching the crowd before them dissipate as a vet came on site and began to leave with the kittens. “Oh really? That’s weird, I could have sworn this was your cup. My eyes don’t fool me, after all, and I saw you back there at the cafe.”

Ryan outright bared his teeth, clearly nervous at the waves of malicious intent Shane must have been broadcasting. That was always a problem with these pesky demons. The fallen angels keep their ability to sense love, but the purebloods are bred to sense desire. Shane wondered if his malice smelled as wretched and gag-worthy to Ryan as stronger demons did to Shane.“Listen, man, I don’t know who you are, but if you don’t back the fu-”

Shane cut him off by placing his hand over Ryan’s chapped lips and warm skin. “No cussing around the children, little guy! Though,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he pointed discreetly over at the kids still waddling by the sides of the workers, “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re a demon, after all.” He watched Ryan’s eyes widen and just to hit the nail home, Shane winked cheerily and let just a little bit of his own angelic Grace seep through to his hands, lightly burning Ryan’s skin before he squirmed away, a blotchy red imprint where Shane had held his hand.

Shane laughed heartily. He’d met demons scared for their lives before, but they’d always jumped straight into fighting Shane or trying to flee once they got a whiff of Shane’s true nature. This one just stood there looking almost resigned. It made him curious. All the more… curious. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what? Leave me alone.”

“Save those kittens, of course!” Shane said. “And how about no. You’ve intrigued me-”

Ryan snapped at him, jaw clenched and clearly torn between fighting and fleeing. “So what? That means you have the right to try and invade my space and- and push at me? I haven’t done anything, so why don’t you fuck off, feathered prick!” he gritted out, clearly anxious before he stomped away. Oh, no this wouldn’t do. He didn’t want to scare it off so soon.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, coming round him and blocking him. He could see the irritation and fear blossom in his wide eyes. “As I said, you’ve intrigued me. Do you have any ulterior motives for saving that thing?”

“That thing is a kitten,” Ryan spat, and Shane rolled his eyes. He knew what it was. “And no, I don’t have ulterior motives, leave me alone!” Shane tsk’d.

“Would it be a weird thing to ask for your number?”

Ryan gave him a look. “What the hell? Of course, it is. You kill my kind for a living, I’m not giving you my number.”   
  


“Only because you lot can get so pesky, baby,” he said, watching Ryan grow annoyed, “but you? Not so much. How many times do I have to repeat that you’ve intrigued me? Caught my  _ eye _ , as the humans like to say.”

“Don’t call me baby,” Ryan said. “And for the last time, leave me alone.”

He pushed past Shane’s blockade, short legs carrying him far, and quickly.

“You don’t want your coffee back?” Shane yelled after him, trudging through the park in his direction. (Ugh. He thinks he stepped in some wet grass. He could feel the fabric of his socks grow soppy and cold.) Ryan only turned around, glared, and snapped his fingers, popping up back in front of Shane to take his cup and then snapped again, disappearing completely.

Shane felt the small tremors in his grip in the milliseconds he’d held the cup with him, be it of fear or the cold, he didn’t know. It might’ve been both. He pursed his lips.

No, no, he was not a fan of that slimy critter escaping, but while his bloodlust wasn’t sated… he felt something new, something overwhelming arise. 

Curiosity. 

What backasswards demon helped animals? No, scratch that, what ethereal being, in general, did that? He’s only ever known the Principalities to do that kind of shit, and he couldn’t think of any motive. It’s not like he was doing it in a human form. He hummed to himself. Eh. He was here to catch demons, technically, not study them.

And yet, he’d let a very demon he was supposed to catch, slip…

It was fine. If Gabe had something to say about it, he could kiss his ass, honestly.

Going to bed that night (even though he didn’t really need to sleep), he mulled over how he was going to find that demon again. He wasn’t lying when he said he was intrigued by him— normally he did no such thing as linger around to watch demons before he killed them. They usually were, after all, up to some trouble of the sort. 

But judging by its incredibly faint scent, it wasn’t all that strong. A blip on a canvas full of paint splatters, if you will. 

Shane almost wished Los Angeles didn’t live up to its name.

(Minutes before he fell asleep, he scoffed to the empty room. What level of non-confrontational do you have to be to transform into a cat to get help when you could just… I don’t know, WALK UP to people and TELL THEM that the kittens were stuck? This was a very intriguing demon. Very intriguing indeed. He hoped the demon would like the little gift he left him.)


	2. Chapter 2

“Motherfucker!” Ryan yelled, wagging his tongue and spluttering as if it would rid his throat and mouth of the searing burn. Really? The guy had to lace his coffee with Grace? He paid six bucks for this drink and he couldn’t even enjoy it! It had already gone cold, too. He couldn’t have this _one_ good thing. God, that pompous asshole had ticked him off. Seriously, though, he thought he was going to _die_ back there. Ryan rubbed his mouth and chin, flinching slightly. It still felt tender under his touch, sensitive and slightly burning all at once.

Honestly, what the hell…

Sara poked her head out from the hallway, having heard Ryan come through the door with a loud bang. She watched him grimace in discomfort as his calloused fingers continued to run along his chin like when people continue to press a bruise for that slight, comfortable ache. “You good, Ryan?” she asked, stepping out and into the living room with him.

“Yeah, just some stuff went down. Nothing big,” he said and sighed. He placed his coffee on the counter and drifted over to the couch, sinking into it and letting the soft surface cup the back of his neck as he closed his eyes to alleviate his rising headache. The sting was still in his mouth.

“Are you not gonna finish your coffee, dude?” Sara asked from the kitchen.

“No.” Ryan peeked an eye open to see her lift its lid to smell its contents. She raised her brow in evident confusion.

“Isn’t this a caramel macchiato? As in, your favorite drink?” Ryan groaned and tore off his shoes before laying along the couch, burying his face under a pillow.

“I know it is,” he said back, muffled. “But some asshole angel laced it with Grace. I can’t drink it anymore.” The flat went silent, and when Ryan peeked out from under the pillow, Sara stood still, shocked.

“An angel? As in, like, an actual angel?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure you ran into an angel.”

“Yes.”

“You ran into another psychotic angel,” she gawked, “and they let you off scot-free?”

Ryan was laughing and grinning at the ridiculousness of it all with her. “Oh my god, I’ve said yes like five times now-”

“Twice-”

“-yes, I ran into an angel and he ‘let me off scot-free’. I’m still wondering why I’m alive, actually.” He almost laughs out a breath of relief. “I- I thought I was a goner for a second until he just started asking me shit.”  
  


“About?”

“He saw me get some kittens saved-” Sara was tracing the marble beneath and around his cup- “and I guess he was just? I don’t know, curious? That’s what he kept saying. I yelled at him and he didn’t do anything. He was a bit of a creep, too, walking up to me and calling my name. ‘Oh YoU’vE iNtRiGuEd Me-’ Satan’s sake, I hated him off the bat before I even realized he was one of those feathered pricks.” 

Ryan heard the indescribable swish and curling of air from Sara’s direction in the kitchen and he turned to raise an eyebrow at her.

She walked around the island with his coffee, holding it out to him. “I removed it,” she said and Ryan’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. She smiled. “I think,” she said, and they shared a laugh.

“God almighty, if I fucking die because you thought you removed the Grace from my cup and then let me chug it, I will never forgive you. I will fight tooth and nail to come back and personally haunt you, Sara, I mean it,” he said, taking the cup in hand.

He stared at it apprehensively, and stuck out his tongue against the lid and tipped, expecting the coffee to once again sizzle once in contact with his tongue… except it didn’t. He turned to Sara, ecstatic, “Holy shit, Rubin, what the fuck! You- You actually removed it!”

“Yeah, well, I’m good at what I do,” she smiled confidently, but Ryan could see the embarrassed flush on the back of her neck and the faint sweat down her chin highlighting how much effort it actually took. If you were acquainted with Sara’s natural propensity towards spellcasting, you know _it isn’t often that she breaks a sweat_.

“Yes, but, holy shit! Rubin, this is more than being good at what you do,” he paused to chug some, still a little apprehensive but relaxing as it went down painlessly. “Pun not intended, but you just pulled off some god-tier shit.”

They go back and forth for a few minutes, Sara arguing that it really isn’t a big deal, and Ryan trying to use his demonic origins to assert his authority in the argument. Of course, it didn’t do shit what with all the stupidity Sara’s seen out of him before. It was a good Sunday afternoon, almost good enough to convince Ryan that that morning had just been some sort of fever dream, but the burn of the Angel’s hand on his mouth had been too real for him to deny.

“Hey, Sara?” he calls later while they sit around doing their own shit in the living room.

“Yeah, Ryan?”

“If that feathered prick finds me…”

He leaves the statement hanging, the silence speaking for him.

  
“I know, Ryan. I know,” she said, even though they both knew she wouldn’t abandon her friend in the wake of danger. It wasn’t like her.

—

Ryan grimaced at the blunt pain that rawed the skin of his dry, cold-bitten hands when he accidentally hit them against the edge of his door. For fuck’s sake, he’s a demon, he isn’t even possessing a human body. Ugh.

He locked the car, listening for the telltale beeps and clicks as he and Sara headed out from the parking lot and into the Buzzfeed building. Once inside, they reveled in the warmth that wrapped around their exposed fingers and faces. Ryan’s eyes almost rolled into his head at the relief and beelined to his desk while Sara went ahead and met up with Quinta to chat, bouncing with energy and all.

He was almost jealous. He’d stayed up all night twisting and turning in bed, eyes wide but unseeing of his ceiling as he mulled over that morning. By the time drowsiness had caught up to his steam-engine of a mind, it was already 5AM and he had to be up by 6. Suffice it to say, he appreciated the _little_ gratitude his demonic origins granted him, otherwise, he and Sara would’ve been goners on the drive to work.

He took a while to just sink into his seat and let the exhaustion settle in his eyelids— a mistake, really, since it just made prying them open that much more difficult. By then, more coworkers had begun filtering into the building, the chatter rising. Sara had also walked back over to her desk next to him, holding her own mug and his, filled almost to the brim with coffee. She really was a blessing sometimes. Ha.

“The elixir of the Gods,” he muttered. Sara scoffed, exasperated before Ryan took the cup into his hand and then adjusted to grip the edge of its bottom and the handle. Being a _literal_ hellspawn, the heat did nothing to him, but it was always a good idea to behave more human. He didn’t want anyone shooting him any weird looks, but then again, _this was LA_ . In retrospect, there was weirder shit for him to worry about than the psychotic angels who ran around literally _killing demons on a whim-_

His phone pinged on his desk, lighting up with a message. Ryan leaned forward to read its preview. He winced, muscles tightening when he saw the messenger. Sara noticed. He shot her a worried look.

“Go,” she said. “I’ll cover for you.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  
  


He ran his hands through his hair, skidding to a stop at the nape of his neck and sighed. He had an inkling he knew what Hell wanted with him at this hour.

—

A hand grasped the back of his head, Ryan’s vision shaking and hair frizzing as the bastard ruffled his head. He glared back at Brent Bennett when he let go, clearly not impressed. “Wow, who pissed in your cereal today, Bergara?” he asked, and Ryan left him alone as he rushed over to the receptionist’s desk, checking in and getting directed to his sire’s room.

The barren walls of Hell’s offices seemed to stare disappointingly at him. He knew that was crazy, but it did feel like that. The jagged surfaces shadowed the farther up them that you looked, the red walls feeling like they mocked him. He felt watched, walking through them, the only company being the other demons or workers he ran into along the halls. 

He knew they weren’t, but he felt like their eyes were all drawn to him, too, as he walked past, able to see his shames and failures.

He soon came to his sire’s door and knocked.

“Come in, Ryan.”  
  


The doorknob under Ryan’s hand felt like he was sealing his fate. Ha. Too late for that, he guessed. His fate was sealed at his birth. He sighed and opened the door.

In the room, his sire sat at his desk, staring at him coldly, cigarette in hand. He knew what he was here for, and it took a hell of an effort to not blatantly wring his hands in front of his superior. Instead, he kept his eyes down.

“Ryan.” Ryan stayed quiet. “Ryan.” His eyes drifted across the floor as his sire sighed. “Please stop keeping your head down, Ryan. You know I don’t like seeing mine and my own looking pitiable.” Ryan remained wound up, though. The last time he’d been called down for encountering an angel was… eventful. It hung in the room like a sword over both of their necks. One of them just had to acknowledge it.

He looked up. “Sorry, sir.”

His sire exhaled, smoke curling around him almost menacingly. Ryan would have believed that to be the mood hadn’t he felt no malice from him. The taste of concern and apology and _love_ thickly coated the air, though, but he never mentioned it. He was always afraid it was just an illusion, or that he was mistaking it for something else. He was a _demon_ , after all. _Only angels could sense love._ “Forget all the formalities, Ryan. I want an explanation. Reports say you encountered an angel the other day. Why-”

_The big question-_

“-did it let you go?”

Ryan shut his mouth and stared for a moment. 

“Um… excuse me?”

“He let you go,” he repeated. “Why? There couldn’t have been any reason for it. LA’s angels are fucking insane-” Ryan fought to keep his face straight- “we both know this. That’s why I relocated you there where you’d be better hidden considering your scent. They’re too on the lookout for any bloody reason to smite us anyway, might as well use it against them,” he spat distastefully and then took another drag from the cigarette, holding Ryan’s gaze. “So why did it let you go?”

The tension felt thrown to the wind, replaced by sheer unadulterated awkwardness. He lowered his arms from behind him only to hold them back up since he really didn’t know what else to do with them. “I don’t know, sir. He- He said I intrigued him, but that was about it.”

“Another one of your rescues?” Ryan nodded. He knew they displeased other demons, almost wretchedly so, but he continued. He continued them because animals were… innocent. And besides, it’s not like the angels, or at least most of them were doing the praised “god’s work” that some humans rambled about. He was determined to not be like them.

He could see the frown begging to tug at his sire’s lips, hands lightly tapping the cigarette over his ashtray, though never really shortening the cigar. He hummed to himself. “Alright…”   
  


“You’re dismissed, Ryan.”

Ryan recoiled slightly in surprise. He was… just letting him off like that? Seriously? He’d always been a proponent of not looking gift horses in the mouth, but this really was a surprise. At the very least, he thought he’d get a smack on the wrist for not having put up a fight with the angel. 

(All those hours of creating excuses, explanations, and scenarios in his head that he thought he’d get even a glimmer of a chance to execute, hopefully not embarrassingly, and it had all gone the drain… it really be like that sometimes, huh.)

He left the office in a daze and headed off to return to Buzzfeed. Hopefully, his absence hadn’t drawn any attention.

—

Jason exhaled another heavy breath of smoke as he reclined, watching Ryan go. The last time was a mistake, and he knew it still hung in the air. He wasn’t the best at healing shit like that, though, really. And he seriously wished he didn’t have to be so hard on his runt of the litter or pretend to be so disapproving. 

Deep down, he knew the reason why Ryan was so far down the chain that was Hell’s hierarchy. A manifestation of the love and healing that was still in him when he Fell, if you will. He was supposed to be erased after he manifested, but it was a decision he couldn’t bring himself to do. Normally, when others Fell, they had none of that left to remove, but Jason had fallen… early. He hadn’t yet been corrupted by the reality of the Archangels’ string of commands. He hadn’t yet realized the wrongness of his actions before it hardened his heart and his questioning demeanor was brought to trial and he Fell for it just as quick.

Ryan was the physical form of that, and maybe, just maybe, he guessed he’d forgotten to get rid of maternal love, too.

He looked back at the report on his desk, thumbing through it to the sizzling pads of his fingers. It was okay. They healed quickly enough for him. In other news, Shamsiel could go fuck himself. Thinking he was just gonna talk openly about Ryan. The tall bastard had always been stubborn and intrusive like that. 

He dusted ash onto the script and snapped his fingers, watching the bright orange licks of flame dance and eat through the page. He knew the Angel could feel the traces of his essence on it burning up, too, and smiled. Served him right. As non-confrontational as Ryan was, he really hoped he could land a punch on his face when they meet again.

Meet, because Jason knew that bastard wasn’t gonna give up, and for once in a long time, he might have made a prayer to keep Ryan safe.

A/N

Shane @ Ryan in the last chapter :

"YoU'vE iNtRiGuEd Me"


	3. Chapter 3

When Ryan settled back into his seat in the Buzzfeed offices, his mind was still scrambled, eyes dazed, and seemingly constantly thinking about what had happened. Seriously, Sara’s been staring at him for the last five minutes and he still hadn’t noticed. For both his and her sanity, she tickled the back of his neck and delighted in Ryan jolting out of his daze to squawk in indignation. “What the hell, Sara?!”

“What are you doing? Time costs money, Bergara, don’t have your existential crisis on the company’s dime.” He rolled his eyes at the obnoxious and unrelenting referencing.

“I was just thinking-”

“Dangerous activity going on there-”

“-Oh shut up!” he chortled. “I was just thinking about the meeting.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” 

Ryan turned to his webcam in a deadpan. “FBI Agent, I’m being cyberbullied, please send help,” he said to which Sara whispered ominously that Bob wasn’t helping him out of this one. He’d been disposed of, and they giggled like idiots together before returning to work because, seriously, time was money and Ryan didn’t want to procrastinate again this week (although he knew he inevitably would).

She did still wish that Ryan would tell her what was going on, though, but she trusted him to tell him when he was ready, knowing that he was closed off when it came to his own personal business with Hell. Not to mention… seriously, the guy could take care of himself (in a fight, not health-wise, of course.)

—

By the end of the workday, most people had filtered out, but there were still the stray few hanging around, including Quinta. While Sara had run off to discuss plans to hang out later in the week with her, Ryan closed up their monitors (making sure to save everything _ multiple times _ , of course) and gathered up their things. Neither had gone grocery shopping for the apartment on the weekend, unfortunately, so they’d decided to head to In-N-Out for dinner. Technically, it wasn’t as unhealthy as other food options…

When they got there, it wasn’t too packed. They decided to head inside to order instead of drive-thru, but also, Ryan had to go to the restroom. In the end, Ryan trusted Sara to know his order and pushed through to the public restroom.

—

At the end of the line of give or take five people, Sara stood. Unless Ryan was gonna take a shit, she really didn’t think he’d be gone long, but anyway, before he even disappeared behind the door, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to come face to face with a man’s chest. She looked up and- holy shit this dude is fucking tall.

Six foot something, definitely, with fluffy brown hair that went this way and that, sporting little stubble along his chin and a funny face, if you had to ask her. Droopy eyes, hunching form, the whole package. He almost looked docile. “Sorry if I sound like a creep right now, but I, uh, couldn’t help but be drawn to the guy you walked in with earlier. Are you two… in a relationship?” he asked, hand rubbing his neck nervously.

Holy shit. Was she gonna be a wingwoman? She spluttered a bit after realizing she’d gone silent for a moment, the both of them moving up the line as others ordered. “Uh- no, we aren’t.”

He breathed a chuckle of relief. “If it isn’t that big a deal, could I ask for his number?” Sara watched him, his attempt to ask under a hooded gaze skewed by his ridiculous height. However, an air of… mischief and scheming radiated from the guy. He looked too calm, asking like it was rehearsed.

“Um- Sorry, I don’t think I can,” she frowned. “Trust me, you seem chill and this really is accomplishing my dream of becoming a wingwoman, but I can’t just give out one of my best friends’ phone numbers like that, you know?” She hoped he would take this well. “By the way, between you and me, he’s a really paranoid guy.”

He stared, looking taken aback at first, but got over it quickly watching her more intently with steely determination in his smile. “Oh no, yeah, I understand. If it’s alright, then, could I give you my number and… I don’t know, could you talk to him for me? Give it to him if he’s interested?” he beamed, and Sara found herself agreeing quickly, handing over her phone unlocked, but it almost felt… wrong. Before she knew it, though, the device was back in her hand and a new contact was in her list. “Shane”.

“Shane” then thanked her profusely before excusing himself, stating that he’d hung around a bit too long and had a night shift to get to and would get going, but that he’d appreciate her open-mindedness.

He was gone as soon as she blinked, and distantly, he heard the cashier call for her next. Ryan chose that time to come back to the line beside her as she rambled their order almost mindlessly. While they waited for their food, contemplating whether or not to try and sell the guy, her brows furrowed in a realization.

The guy never took off with any food. Mayhaps he’d already eaten when they walked in and he’d thrown his trash away already?   
  


—

“C’mon, please Sara,” Ryan pouted, “just a  _ little  _ bit of your animal fries! I swear I won’t take any more than that!”

“Fuck off, heathen, I know your definition of ‘little’ is a handful you little gremlin.” Ryan continued to pout and sniff pathetically at her as they barged into their shared apartment. “You shouldn’t have eaten yours before we got home, you know that. Or ordered more if you were gonna be as voracious as this.”

“I severely underestimated my hunger, okay? Pleeeease?”

Sara rolled her eyes. She knew that if she didn’t give him some, he would steal them later anyways. Really, she should’ve seen this coming. “Okay, but I choose how much to give you, okay?”

Ryan’s face lit up in knowing victory, but Sara pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing as she took one fry out of her batch on the counter, picked off a measly crumb, and presented it to Ryan. His face fell immediately. “Here,” she grinned, “the fruit of your efforts.” He picked the crumb off her finger, pouting at it as Sara promptly lost her shit.

“This is abuse. I’m being exploited,” he said, looking at Sara over his hand and the crumb. “This is what I get for supporting this household. I see how it is,” he dragged a finger down his cheek in imitation of a tear running down his face. “I’ll just take my services where they’re appreciated,” he finished, and then his face also broke into a grin and they became two idiot friends laughing on the floor of a run-down apartment in the middle of LA.

—

By 11PM, they were huddled in their own corners of their couch, draped in blankets and having forgotten all about the trash they’d left on their coffee table, the room smelling faintly of grilled onion and sizzled meat. On the TV, a documentary about animals and the weird shit they got up to was droning on, filling the room contently and almost entirely lulling Ryan to sleep.

“Ryan?” Sara called, breaking their silence.

“Hm?”

“You awake?” she asked, peering past the reflection of his glasses futilely. He just mumbled a small yes back, too bothered to try and move in his warm cocoon, contrary to the chilly air that the lack of air conditioning introduced to the apartment. Bills were high, okay? Sometimes, you had to make sacrifices…

“I almost forgot,” she pressed forward, “someone back at In-N-Out asked me to give them your number.” Ryan whipped his head towards her. “I didn’t hand it over if you’re worried,” she said, watching him relax across from her. “He asked me to give you his number if you’re interested in hitting him up.”

From this angle, she couldn’t really tell what Ryan was thinking, but she knew he was mulling the decision over in his head. The last time Ryan had been in a relationship was a long time ago, she knew, and while most of the ones he’s had while she was around mutually broke off and continued as close friendships, there were a couple of sordid ones, namely girls who were displeased at his living situation with Sara.

Ryan still hadn’t answered back…

“Was he cute?” he asked suddenly, and Sara almost choked on nothing, laughing, then.

“That’s what you’re curious about?! Not, ‘did he look like a serial killer?’ Who are you?!” she jokingly kicked at him and they engaged in a small round of kicking at each other, Ryan squawking when she got him behind the thigh where she knew he was sensitive.

When they calmed down, Ryan giggled, “What, I can’t be vain every once in a while?”

“Well, you can, it’s just, I don’t know. Not like you?” and now it was Ryan’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I just think that if you trusted him enough to pull through and mention him to me, then he’s bypassed most of my already set security measures. Besides, I trust your judgment.”

“That’s literally the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me since you’ve met me.”

“Is not! I’ve said nice shit to you before!”

“Name one instance.”

“I- uh-” He cut off and they were both sent back into a fit of giggles, ignoring the lights dancing around the screen and illuminating the living room.

Before they made the dreadful trip back to their own rooms, wary of the following morning at work, Ryan would pipe up again. “You never told me if he was cute.” Sara false gagged, drawing her phone out from her pocket.

“Yeah, yeah, he was. He might be your type if you ask me,” she drawled sleepily, mind susceptible to the suggestions in her head encouraging her to sell the guy. “I’ll airdrop his contact,” she said, the four consecutive rings loud in the silent hallway. The fog in her head seemed to clear up, then, and they headed into their rooms, Sara yawning, watching the light of Ryan’s phone illuminate his tired eyes before he disappeared behind his doorway.

Something still felt weird about doing this, but she chalked it up to feeling like a third wheel.

—

On his own, Ryan decided that maybe he could send the guy a text right now, just cause he already has the dude pulled up on his phone anyway. There was no contact photo attached. Just a simple “Shane” as the name and his phone number beneath.

“Shane, Shane, Shane,” he rolled the name around on his tongue for a few seconds. Sounds like a nice enough guy, but then again, that’s what they said about Ted Bundy. After a few seconds of just having messages open, though, light mode searing into his retinas, Ryan decided, “Fuck it,” and sent a simple, “Hi, I’m the guy you reportedly tried to hit on through his friend at In-N-Out?” before setting his phone down on the bedside table and sinking into his pillow, embracing its coolness against his forehead as it cupped his cheeks.

The ping of a message surprised him, right as he was on the cusp of succumbing to sleep, and he slurred to the empty room, “I’ll deal with him tomorrow. It’s coma time,” before he fell asleep.

—

In the dark, Shane read the text over and over again compulsively, phone held (riskily) above his face. His throat was dry and his hair felt oily, but it wasn’t morning yet, so he’d go back to bed and deal with it later.

A bit sloppily, he typed out, “Hi! My name is Shane, but you might know that already :)”

He waited for half a minute, the “delivered” not changing to “read” and figured the demon might’ve gone to bed. Funny that neither of them really needed it, yet they still conducted the ritual anyway.

Resigned, he made a new contact out of the unknown number, inputting Ryan’s name, and then promptly fell back asleep after laying his phone next to his pillow.

  
He hoped this would be  _ fun _ .


	4. Chapter 4

When Ryan woke up, he cursed himself for not brushing his teeth before bed, the faint taste of onions still in his mouth from last night. Before he even reached for his phone, he got up to go piss and brush his teeth, rubbing the crust out of his eyes after splashing his face with water and then cleaning up the mess because otherwise, Sara would chew him out for it.

When he headed back into his room, he opened his messages and then threw his phone onto the bed to dress up for the workday. The weather said that today was gonna be in the low fifties and, honestly, fuck that. Before he walked on over to the kitchen, though, he picked up his phone again, reading the message from last night as he went. Honestly, with how fast the guy texted back last night, Ryan could’ve thought he was waiting in his messages for him.

The blue bubble read, “Hi! My name is Shane, but you might know that already :)”

Ryan stared at it for a bit, not really sure how to reply back, so he just told him his name was Ryan and left it at that, closing his phone to go and get some coffee ready. During it, his phone pinged again. A couple of times.

_I know it is._

_Can I be upfront with you?_

“What the fuck…?” Ryan whispered to himself. Before he could even type up a response, the three dots appeared and then quickly disappeared, and then a photo was pinging through with a message. “Surprise,” it read, and Ryan’s heart dropped into his stomach, knuckles white around his phone. What the fuck, what the fuck, _what the fuck_ -

_Ryan?_

This son of a fucking bitch. Fuck-

_Sweetheart? Baby?_

Ryan snarled at his screen.

_Don’t fucking call me that._

_What the fuck do you want with me?_

_Actually, scratch that, stay the fuck away!_

His hands rushed to block the number and the ping he expected when he saw the three dots never fell through… until it did.

_Oh sweetheart, did you really_

_think that you could block me?_

_What the fuck?! LEAVE ME_

_ALONE!!!_

_I’m not after you, I swear._

_Or well._

_I’m not after you like_ that _hehe_

“Ryan?”

Ryan nearly jumped out of his fucking skin, locking eyes with Sara in the hallway. “What’s wrong, Ryan?” she asked, approaching him carefully. Shit! Sara! Fuck! If this guy was actually coming for him, that meant she was in danger! Shit, what about his family? His brother? His parents? How was he going to-

"Are you okay?” she asked him, and Ryan shook his head, leaning against the counter. “Do you wanna talk about it?” she prodded, and Ryan just shook his head reluctantly. If he was genuinely after Ryan, roping others into this might get them hurt.

Fuck.

—

He stopped responding, trying to get the guy to leave him alone, but his phone just incessantly pinged while he was at work, so much so that he eventually just put it on silent mode. Each time, Sara just looked over at it with a worried look on her face. Ryan thinks she might have thought it had something to do with the guy she played wing man for.

He wonders if he’d tried to influence her. Sara was no easy witch to influence, though. (He’s tried, but alas, he could never worm his way out of washing the dishes.) He laughed to himself about the possibility that he was startled to find she didn’t succumb so easily, but it shriveled up in his mind when he considered the amount of power that he must’ve used to do so.

He still hadn’t told Sara about why he was freaking out that morning, and he hoped he wouldn’t ever have to. A couple of times, when his phone went silent for extended periods, he tried to block Shane again only for his phone to explode with more messages in retaliation. By the end of the day, there were over 60 unread texts from him, and he only silently stared at his phone in apprehension.

He pocketed it as they started packing up to leave, having a grocery run to make on their way home.

—

_I bet that you’re one of those charred_

_rascals who love those movies that_

_paint demons as terrifying_

_Like Annabelle_

_None of you can appreciate cinematic_

_masterpieces. Like Speed Racer._

Ryan couldn’t believe the words he was fucking reading. The stereotyping. The insults. The _audacity_.

_I wasn’t going to respond_

_But you’ve actually done it_

_You’ve crossed the line. You’re worse_

_than any other angel I’ve ever had the displeasure_

_of meeting. Is that why I’m still alive? So_

_you could torment me before you kill me?_

_Shut your mouth, don’t shit_

_on Speed Racer like that._

_What the fuck is wrong with you?!_

_What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong_

_with you?! I was right about you, wasn’t_

_I? That’s why you’re making these insane remarks?_

_No! You aren’t right because unlike you, I_

_enjoy the movies I watch for their story and_

_don’t keep my enemies in the back of my head!_

_Frankly, I’m insulted you think I liked Annabelle_

_Comes Home!!_

_Ok, you know what, yeah, I agree. It wasn’t_

_that good. It could’ve been better._

_Yeah, I would’ve taken rewatching_

_Insidious for the hundredth time over watching_

_that movie for a second one_

_We’re agreeing?_

_Yeah._

_Good._

_Pfft._

Ryan let break a small smile, and Sara caught it before he could do anything to hide it. “Is it that guy?”

“Yeah.”

—

Ryan promised himself that that would be the end of him responding to Shane. Yet somehow, across the week, he began looking out for the incessant pinging of his phone instead of ignoring it. Looming when a notification lit up his screen. It wasn't obsessive, but, for one Sara Rubin who's been friends with Ryan through thick and thin, it was definitely... noticeable.

—

_I’m glad it’s no longer the season of pumpkin_

_spice lattes._

_ >:( _

_I'll fucking kill you_

_YOU like those?!? I can’t!! This is!! What!?_

_Fuck you, let me enjoy shit_

Ryan promised himself _again_ that he would leave the angel alone and hoped he’d grow bored with him. He felt the guilt of his breaking his own promise when Shane sent a string of laughing emojis back.

—

_What kind of popcorn do you like?_

_:???_

_Why are you askinh_

_*asking_

_?_

_Answer the question_

_Ur life is hanging in the balance_

_here_

_Never use that against me again_

_And I'll have you know I like mine_

_buttered and lightly salted -_-_

_AYYYEEEE ME TOO!!!_

_omfg_

_U R A MAN OF CULTURE_

_your abbreviations are_ _horrendous_

_ur fucking emoticons are horrendous_

_but you don't see me saying shit_

_> :OOOOO_

_We have emojis, boomer, get with the times_

_YOU'RE OLDER THAN ME!!!!_

_THE ANGRY EMOJI DOESN'T HOLD_

_A CANDLE TO THE ANGER EMOTICON_

_Keep telling yourself that, baby_

If Ryan's heart skipped in his chest, well... it wasn't his business.

—

_Have you seen Justice League yet?_

_It's been out for months, of course_

_I have_

_What u think_

_It was... not it..._

_The whole Aquaman thing when he was_

_on Diana's lasso :/// That was seriously..._

_not it, bro..._

_Yeah, i thought that too_

_Bro who told batfleck how to behave_

_mf "grieving", BITCH he was PINING_

_lmao_

_Have u watched Aquaman yet???_

_No_

_don't_

_dont fuckinf spoil it_

_on god_

_LOL IT'S BEEN OUT FOR LIKE THREE_

_MONTHS NOW THO DUDE WTF_

_Shut up_

_Shut up Shane_

—

_I found this youtube channel where this_

_person just walks up to random cats_

_on the street and pets them_

_it's great_

_wtf_

_they don't get scratced or anything?_

_*_ _scratched_

_no_

_the channel is called "impressed cat video"_

_bit pointless if u ask me but ig i can see_

_the appeal_

Ryan wasn't sure how to respond to that.

—

_Why haven’t you killed me yet?_

_Bruh_

_I told you, you intrigue me._

_Do you realize that you sound like a huge_

_fucking creep? Like, no sane person walks_

_up to someone calling their name and tells_

_them that they’re interested in them. Romantically_

_or homicidally. In fact, I should have punched_

_the shit out of you when we met, assault charges_

_be damned._

_“Damned”! HA!_

_Shut up, Shane, that pun_

_wasn’t intentional._

_Sure it wasn’t. That reminds me, why???_

_Why did you have to be a cat to rescue_

_those kittens? You… you do know you could just…_

_walk up to people, right?_

_…Shut up, Shane._

_Was it the pets?_

_Were you in it for getting petted? Are you_

_some kind of exhibitionist? Love messing_

_around with the rejects? Or do you all just_

_flock to one another?_

_What the FUCK??? You know what?_

_I seriously thought that for a while_

_there that we were getting there in terms_

_of being on the same page, but you know what?_

_???_

_Fuck you._

—

He didn’t stick around long enough to see what the three dots would birth, and didn’t bother blocking him either. Just silenced his phone, and put it down. He can’t believe he was getting around to thinking Shane was a decent angel. No angel was ever decent. They were all pompous, racist pieces of shit just looking for their next toy to spin around their finger and demon to kill because they were bored.

Why was he even feeling guilty for leaving Shane on the phone like that? He was an asshole. He was an angel. He was a creep with no boundaries and murder on his mind. He deserved it.

Yeah. 

—

After Ryan cussed him out on Friday, Shane didn’t text Ryan over the weekend. Like. At all. No ping of his phone to bother him during his day, no tall feathered freak finding him in the middle of grocery shopping, nothing from Sara either about running into the guy who asked for his number. Frankly, he thinks she forgot about him after that first time she caught him texting Shane back.

He shouldn't worry. He shouldn’t be glancing and checking his phone here and there for more stupid texts. At the bottom of his screen, the red bubble indicating a couple of messages from Shane was still there, and whenever he entered messages, he ignored the preview text under Shane’s name. He wasn’t gonna take his shit.

Monday went by normally. Work was busy as usual, “Boss earns a dollar, I earn a dime, that’s why I cry on the company’s time,” that kind of shit. Again, there were no interruptions, even when he’d tiredly incited another rescue after his workout at the gym. There was a teenager there with their phone out a couple of times, though, so he was slightly worried about getting his deeds posted to the internet and read by Shane.

Ugh, why was the asshole even still in his head? He was an angel, Ryan was a demon, and he was lucky to be left alive and left alone, and hoped it stayed that way.

Of course, though, his wishes never go according to plan.

The next morning, on Tuesday, he left for the kitchen to grab some coffee for Sara and himself before everyone else would drain the pot. (This was the exact reason why Sara and he came to work early.) By now, he knew the amount of cream and sugar she liked in her coffee, too, and the habit had been so deeply drilled into him that he no longer had trouble trying to bring two cups of coffee back to their desks by the handles.

All that effort almost went down the drain, though, when he rounded the corner, still watching the cups as he went to make sure the coffee didn’t slosh out of their cups, and then looked up when he got to their desks to find Sara chatting it up with _Him_.

Shane’s face almost lit up entirely, and if it weren’t for his extra senses, he would have missed the satisfied curl of a predator who found his prey that haunted his eyes. Ryan calmly placed the cups on their desks, Sara looking between them to silently observe the silent tension. 

“There you are, baby!” Shane smirked. “I almost thought you were ignoring me when you hadn’t texted back for three days.” Calm down, Ryan. This is a professional workplace. How did he even find your desks? Was it Sara? Did he ask around and someone just mindlessly guided him in? Aside from Sara, no one else knew about this dude.

“That’s because I was,” Ryan gritted out.

“Aw. Was it something I said? I’m sure we could talk it out.”

Ryan sighed, peeking Eugene and Curly stop walking a few feet behind Shane to watch shit transpire. “I don’t want to talk it out, Shane.”

“Don’t be a boring romance trope like that, baby. I swore I was sorry and knew what set you off. I kept apologizing but you never picked up your phone.” His tone actually did sound sincere, and Ryan hated him all the more for it.

  
“Well-” Ryan threw his hands up- “if you knew what you said was wrong, then why ask why I was mad? And don’t guilt-trip me! How did you even know I worked here? Are you stalking me?!”

“I- No, I- I wasn’t stalking you. I just- your Snapchat was connected to your contact and, uh- I noticed your bitmoji was in the area earlier and I looked around in time to see you and Sara here walk into this building.” Ryan thinks the excuse was horseshit, but he let it slide and regarded Shane quietly. Eventually, Ryan dropped it and just sighed.

“Look, I appreciate you wanting to talk _it_ out face to face, Shane-” their ‘relationship’ went unacknowledged- “but this is my workplace. I have a job to do. I’ll check your texts later, but could you please leave?”

Shane seemed to understand his urgency quickly and nodded before walking off, only giving him a small, “Thanks, _babe_. I’ll talk to you later.” He laid the dry sarcasm heavy on the pet name, but the others didn’t seem to notice, and by the time he’d settled back into his chair, he was gone.

Beside him, Sara was quiet. He thinks Curly and Eugene had left earlier while he sipped at his mug, but he knew Sara was boiling with questions.

“Just ask-”

“Why did I feel like I was left out of some joke between you two?”  
  


Wow, straight for the hard questions, huh. Ryan stared at the front door of the office that Shane had left through. “That,” Ryan said, “was the, uh, angel… who laced my coffee with Grace last week.” Sara coughed and sputtered around her cup and Ryan instinctively rushed to pat her back as she coughed through the wet sensation of coffee going down the wrong pipe.

When she recovered, she looked at Ryan apologetically, brows furrowed and mouth parted. “Fuck, Ryan, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-”

“No, it’s fine, Sara, the guy’s an asshole who manipulates-”

“Jeez, is that why I felt weird about giving you his number-?”

  
“What?”

Sara looked him in the eyes. “Yeah, when I gave you his number, I felt really wrong about it. Honestly, I don’t even know how he got through the receptionist’s desk. I thought it was really weird when he approached me because I know you haven’t rambled about him.”

Ryan groaned. “I was right. He can influence people. I’m sorry you got roped up in this shit, Sara,” he said, and it was Sara’s turn to reassure him.

“Don’t be,” she said. “You said it yourself, the guy’s an ass. It wasn’t your fault he tailed after you.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said resignedly. He felt the conversation come to an end, and Sara and he adorned their headphones before getting to work on editing footage.


	5. Chapter 5

“Could you, like, not?” Ryan asked Shane when the lanky bastard came into his regular cafe on Wednesday the week after, ordered a drink, and took residence in the seat across from Ryan. His knees bumped along Ryan’s as he tried to get settled.

“Nope,” Shane said, popping the ‘p’. “I’m afraid not,” and then he cupped his hand and pulled a frayed knot from thin air. Ryan rolled his eyes, determined to not smile, failing, and trying to hide it behind his mug. Shane caught it, though, and giggled at his frustration. Ryan just rolled his eyes again.

They sat there for a good half an hour in content silence while Ryan worked and Shane fiddled with social media before Ryan had to leave him.

Ryan didn’t like thinking about how he felt like he’d forgiven Shane so quickly. He wanted to keep being pissed, but it just wouldn’t come.

—

The next Monday, Shane found him at work again in the early morning. 

“I thought I told you I’m busy here at work,” Ryan said, frowning at Shane.

“Well, yes, but no. You never told me I couldn’t visit after that first time.”

Ryan scoffed. “Whatever, just don’t bother me or my coworkers.”

Two hours later, with Shane watching him edit over his shoulder, he asked him, “Do you not have a job, dude?” 

“I do, but I don’t have to report in until, like, 10.”

Ryan gave him a look. “Shane, it’s 9:56,” he said and laughed hysterically when Shane jumped in his spare chair, yelling “OH SHIT!” and packed up his stuff, muttering a quick goodbye before he basically sprinted through the front door and disappeared with a snap.

“Dumbass,” Ryan muttered, staring at where he’d last been. Had he turned around, he would’ve seen a select few coworkers watching him, smiling at each other like they knew something he didn’t.

When Sara returned to her seat, she stared at Ryan’s vacant eyes, then asked, “Did he leave?” Ryan nodded. “Oh thank fuck,” she sighed in relief, and Ryan turned to her sharply.

“Don’t be like that,” he pouted, and Sara sputtered.

“Just a week ago, you were calling him an asshole! What happened?!” she asked, laughing. Ryan turned away, not answering.

“It’s none of your business,” he said, and they both bust out giggling.

—

“Why do you keep finding me? Are you being a creep again?” Ryan asked him on Wednesday, and Shane rolled his eyes so hard, he could’ve lodged them in the back of his head.

“Oh yeah, sure, like I was one to start with. It’s me, ol’ Shane ‘Creep’ Madej. Cue the Radiohead why don’t you?” Ryan laughed brightly, scrunched-up nose, squinting eyes, shaking shoulders, and everything. Shane decided he liked that look on him and smiled, giggling along a bit. “You haven’t opened my texts, yet. I was just waiting around for you to bring them up but you haven’t even touched them.”

“I just thought I’d keep you on your toes,” Ryan giggled.

Shane scoffed. “And here I thought I was the mean one.” Ryan laughed boisterously again, and this time, Shane joined him wholeheartedly.

—

Everything was going well again until Thursday.

That time, Ryan had found Shane’s back, occupied by a phone call in the alleyway by the cafe that he frequented, figured that Shane had come here in anticipation of him. Everything was fine… until he snuck close, trying to scare him, and overheard the call.

“You’re a real prick,  _ Gabe _ … Yeah, yeah, you asshole, I’m doing my job, Christ.” He sounded annoyed, kicking a pebble against the wall, worrying a rash into his neck with how much he was rubbing the back of it. “Yeah, yeah, I do have one I’m going after… No, I’m slowing my roll this time. They’re always flighty, you know that. Evasive. I’m, uh, testing something out,” he said, and Ryan wasn’t sure what to make of the level of uncertainty there.

“Oh don’t start acting like you’re fucking suspicious, Gabe, so what if I’m so assimilated into the  _ rejects _ ’ lifestyles, I wasn’t cast out then, and I still haven’t fallen now,” he snapped without warning, and the cruel laugh rang in Ryan’s ears. 

And maybe, if Ryan wasn’t so caught up in the meaning of the words, he would’ve caught the forced tone of Shane’s voice. If he was looking at his face, he would’ve seen the guilt in his eyes.

Shane pocketed his phone and turned around, perhaps ready to head back into the cafe.

Instead, he bumped right into Ryan, standing no more than a foot behind him. His mouth opened to say something and then he registered the look on Ryan’s face and stared like a deer caught in the headlights.

Ryan turned. And then he ran. 

He refused to look back when Shane called his name.

—

“Ryan?” Sara called into his dark room, barely able to make out Ryan’s outline under the blanket. “Ryan? Is everything okay?” A part of the lump shook. 

‘ _ No. _ ’

Okay, now she was worried. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

‘ _ No. _ ’

Sara regarded him quietly. The only reason she could think of for why he was upset was… 

“Was it Shane?” For a long moment, Ryan didn’t move and Sara was about to give up and leave-

The lump shook up and down.

‘ _ Yes _ .’

Hm.

—

Shane groaned into his empty apartment and then sat down on his couch, digging his face into his hands and screaming into them.

God, fuck, why did he do that?! He knew Ryan was on his way there- fuck!

Better yet, they’ve known each other for roughly two weeks! Why was he so invested in this shit! Fuck!! Why did Ryan have to fucking run away before he could say anything!?

He sighed and stared at the wall, hard. In reality, he couldn’t blame him. You overhear the guy you were beginning to trust say that he was secretly planning to kill you, he’d run, too. Fuck. He just- ugh, he wishes he didn’t take that call. He wishes he just played Gabriel off in his own time. He wishes Ryan never overheard him at all.

He stared out the window of his living room. He could… call him… text him and try to explain himself. But in retrospect, even he wouldn’t trust a word coming out of his own mouth.

Shane was an angel. Ryan was a demon. And Shane killed demons as part of his job.

But he was just so  _ fucking _ angry, too. Angry at  _ Ryan _ , angry at  _ Gabriel _ , angry at  **_himself_ ** . Just-

He let out a deep breath. Y’know what? He’s a fucking angel. He didn’t need to deal with this shit. He jumped onto his feet and kicked his discarded shoes across the room, growling as the resounding hollow bang triggered some yelling from his neighbor’s end.

Everything can go fuck itself.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_Bam, bam, bam!_ ** __

Shane groaned awake from his couch, his mouth dry and joints clicking as he got up in the freezing air of his apartment. 

**_Bam, bam, BAM!_ **

The frantic knocking at his door became heavier. Who the fuck was that? Quickly, he stumbled to his feet, almost tripping over them in the dark of his apartment, only the kitchen light illuminating the hall down to the door. Ugh. He pulled the door open almost violently-

“Shane?” It was Sara on the other side, staring up at him in the dark. Shane blinked a couple of times. Rubbed the crust out of his eyes in the bright of the hallway lights.

“The fuck?” he said.

“ _ Meow _ .”

Shane drew his gaze down to her arms where she cradled a familiar tabby whose eyes were bright, and pupils large. When they locked eyes, it curled into her arms even more, like it was trying to hide from him.

“Can I come in?” Sara asked as he continued to stare. Shane nodded numbly, moving aside as she entered and for a couple of seconds, he stared out into the empty hall, wondering how life came to be him letting the very demon he’s been pissed about since yesterday, into his apartment. As a cat.

Huh.

Life really is just like that sometimes, he thought as he closed the door and excused himself to the restroom to shower quickly and then headed back to the living room. He didn’t anticipate his Friday night going like this.


	6. Chapter 6

“So…” Shane stared at Sara slowly petting Ryan in her lap, scratching behind his ear on occasion and under his chin. Ryan, in turn, was purring like a fucking Lamborghini. “Care to explain why you’re crashing my pathetically lonely Friday night?”

This really was surreal.

“Uh,” she stammers, “Well- I don’t know what happened, but Ryan came home… stuck… in his cat form-”

“No shit.” Ryan glowered at Shane.

“Fuck you- okay, look. I tried asking him shit he could just nod or shake his head to, demons were what we landed on. He got in a fight with another demon, I guess, and for some reason he got stuck this way, god knows how pun not intended.” She continued to pet Ryan all the while.

“Uh-huh. Okay,” Shane said. “So why are you  _ here _ ?”

“No offense to either of you, but I don’t fuck with your guys’ daddy issues-” Shane choked- “and I don’t really have anywhere to turn to.” She stared blankly.

  
“What makes you think I won’t kill him?” Ryan blanched on her lap and tried to wiggle off, meowing, Sara’s grip stopping his squirming. Is this what he was put on this forsaken planet for?

“Don’t be so melodramatic— Ryan, stop that. I was hoping you’d have something helpful to contribute, that’s why I came here, except I have a job and can’t really juggle looking after Ryan, looking for someone who might be able to help, and trying to  _ do  _ that job all at the same time-”

Shane paced his kitchen, arms up in frustration. “Well- what makes you think I can do that, too?! And it’s Friday, you could bear to take care of him over the weekend!”

She began to look equally as frustrated, but Ryan had at least calmed down now. “Dude, I came here because I thought you could do something. I wasn’t gonna wait for work to roll around to be like, ‘Oh, hi Shane, Ryan’s a cat and we need him for today’s episode, would you mind turning him back right this instant?’ Now I need to know how long I’ll have to cover for him before either you or I can get him fixed!”

“I won’t argue with your logic, I just hate that it’s detrimental to my argument-”

“UGH!! I know you two fought but would you both just get over your drama for one fucking second and be helpful. I can’t go around walking with Ryan in my arms looking for someone to help since he’s told me his scent thing that you guys sniff out is stronger this way. And I thought that if he’s around you and you help, we can get him back sooner and with fewer chances that another angel will smell him with you around.” She genuinely looked irritated and stressed, and Shane felt bad for a second there. Ryan placed a cool paw on her forearm, meowing quietly like he was sorry.

Shane hated to do this. He really did. How do you handle disappointing someone on a Thursday and then having to be stuck with them  _ literally the next day _ ? 

He sighed. “Fine. I’ll keep him around. But only on the condition that you try to find someone  _ as quickly as possible _ .”

Sara scoffed, having gone back to petting Ryan like it was a habit. “Yeah, sure, dude. You’re the one juggling three things at once now, I don’t expect you to dedicate a shit load of time to finding someone, too. I don’t want Ryan to lose his job, either, so don’t worry about it.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

“Yeah- uh-”

“I’ll just… leave him here. I guess. I need to get back to our apartment. The good thing about being a cat is you don’t really need to pack anything from your human life. I just hope I can get him back in time to get him to help pay the bills.”

“Okay,” this was awkward. Sara stood and plopped Ryan on the chair she’d been sitting in and headed for the door briskly to which Ryan, distressed, ran after her, meowing for her with every step like he didn’t want her to go. He probably didn’t. He  _ did  _ suggest that he could kill him like this, after all.

“Ryan- stop. You need to stay here,” she said, picking him up and handing him to Shane, who had quickly followed. “I’ll try to make sure you don’t get fired. Make up while you’re here, will you?” she said, and then she was out the door, leaving Ryan huddled in Shane’s arms as they stared mindlessly at the empty hallway.

Even when Ryan snapped back into reality and batted at Shane’s arms, he didn’t let up, only putting him back down once they’d walked back towards the living room. Immediately, Ryan made it as far as he could opposite to him, wound up and tail high.

“Don’t be like that, Ryan.” He stayed put, and Shane groaned. “Ugh, fine, be like that,” he said and started down the hallway to actually get into bed this time. Quickly, he stuck his head back into the living room, startling Ryan again, “You can take the couch.” 

And that was that.

—

At 7:30 in the morning, his alarm started blaring in his ear. Sure, it was Saturday, but he liked to keep consistent with his sleep. Really, though, he didn’t know why he does that to himself, because it’s been two minutes of it ringing and he’s still buried into his pillow, groaning as he fought off the desire to remain curled up in his sheets. Eventually, he shot his arm out from under himself and grasped around his bedside table for the phone, shutting it up promptly.

When he pried his eyes open, he remembered the events of last night? Early morning? Whatever. He still couldn’t tell if that had actually happened, but all along him taking a piss and brushing his teeth, he hoped it was a fever dream he’d had and that he didn’t walk out into his living room to see a cat Ryan still on his couch.

Of course, though, god isn’t gracious and when he walked out, there he was looking like a sleeping loaf of bread on his couch, eyes shut in the way that a cat does when they’re warm and dozing. Huh. Maybe he just didn’t understand cat language all that well, but it looks almost like he had only barely gotten to bed.

He snuck quietly into the kitchen, hand pressing against his fridge as he pried it open inch by inch and then dug out two eggs and some bread from the bottom-most drawer. When he realized he was gonna end up being loud regardless because of his cooking, he sighed. His efforts were for naught.

The rest of that went by rather quick, but thankfully, Ryan didn’t really rouse until the end of it all, watching Shane place the sunny side up egg between two slices of bread. “It ain’t much, but it’s honest work,” he said to Ryan. Even as a cat, though, he could see the judgment in his eyes, and he at least appreciated that he couldn’t talk. “What? A man has got to eat,” he said, crossing his arms at the feline.

Shane could’ve sworn Ryan rolled his eyes at him, but before he could say anything about it, Ryan laid his head back down and closed his eyes, falling back asleep. Lucky bastard. “This sleepover is going to be a  _ cat _ -astrophe,” he said to no one in particular before beginning to eat. He’ll get to finding someone to help… later… yeah… 

—

“Aren’t you the guy that stalked Bergara to work like a couple weeks ago? A week ago?”

“I-” Shane blanched- “What?”

“Bergara. Ryan Bergara. ”

Shane blanched. “ I didn’t… I didn’t stalk him.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what they all say,” Curly chuckled, slapping his arm playfully. “I’m just kidding, niño, I know you weren’t. But seriously, what are you here for?”

“Um, well, a friend of mine got stuck as a cat-”

“Yeah?”   
  


“-and I was hoping I could find someone who could help me turn him back.”

“Hm.” Curly pursed his lips, stroking his beard in thought. “How long ago was this?”

“Just yesterday.”

“Well… this isn’t my area of expertise, really, but I could recommend people to you if you’d like? How soon do you need him back?”

Shane recalled Sara’s remarks the night before. “As soon as possible, really. I don’t have a deadline, but I don’t think he’d appreciate getting fired for being stuck as a cat,” he said, and Curly chuckled, bright and all.

“Okay, I’ll step up my efforts. But yeah, sorry I couldn’t do anything for you.”

“It’s fine. At least I got a free drink out of this, I guess,” Shane said, swirling the straw in his cup of coffee. “Thank you, though, for trying to help out more.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem, Chiquito. Well. Not really a Chiquito, but you know what I mean,” he laughed. “So I’ll just text you whoever I can find?”

“Yeah,” Shane said and began packing up to leave. Before he got to go, though-

“Shane?” He turned to Curly. “I wouldn’t happen to know this fellow, do I?” he asked, grinning and waggling his eyebrows. Shane sputtered, mouth opening and closing trying to divert his thoughts and only making himself look more guilty. “Take care of him, mijo,” he laughed one more time, and then Shane took off, too embarrassed to say much else.

—

“No dice,” Shane said, walking into his apartment. “Sorry, little guy.”

Ryan, still on the couch, just buries his head back onto his arms, eyes following Shane around the living room and kitchen. To be fair, it’s not like he had anything to do but lounge around. “I hope me doing chores will be entertaining for your little cat brain, Ry guy.” Ryan let out a long-suffering meow. “Oh, go catch some fucking mice, Ryan.” He really didn’t get what he was saying, but he could make estimations.

At the end of him sweeping his kitchen and cleaning the counter, he walked over to where Ryan was sitting, scrunching his nose a bit at the scent of ash and sulfur. He’ll have to clean this spot for his sake, too. Ryan’s scent wasn’t that strong as a cat either, but laying around must leave layers. “Scoot, Ryan.” He didn’t budge. “Ryan.” He licked his paw and then began grooming. Not even a day, yet, and Shane was already sick of this. Shane bent down to pick him up-

“OW! Dude!” he gawked at Ryan who only hissed from where he was on the couch. “Look, I get you’re frustrated and still probably pissed at me, but I’m trying my fucking best, dude, Christ!” Ryan just kept hissing as he rubbed over the claw marks he’d left. He still kind of felt bad about Thursday, though, and really, Ryan couldn’t be blamed either. Shane was dealing with this shit, but Ryan was the one who was actually stuck as a cat here.

He sighed, hands on his hips as he looked down at Ryan. He genuinely did wish he could do more to help. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Ryan.” He turned on the heater and as he turned the corner into his bedroom, he heard a faint meow that sounded a little bit like “goodnight” and he smiled to himself.

Sinking into his mattress, he mulled over the situation. So Ryan was a cat after a supposed demonic encounter gone wrong. He wasn’t aware of demons ever being able to forcefully transform others. He turned to Curly because he advertised his services in the faint occult, but apparently, he had nothing he could do for animal transformation, and Ryan couldn’t tell Shane anything about his own abilities since, well, he was a cat.

Shane turned to his bedside table in the dark, remembering to plug in his phone before bed. “10:23” glared into his retinas in the dark, and he reflected on his day from doing some online work and shopping after eating to lounging around, reading, and then searching for people to help leading up to meeting with Curly down by the Starbucks a good 20-minute walk from his apartment.

Moreover, though, he thought about how he could personally try and help Ryan. Maybe Heaven had some resources on this shit?

He quickly fell asleep after deciding to take a visit the following day.


	7. Chapter 7

“Ow! Fuck! Ryan, stop that!” Shane said, bucking his feet at the catified demon. “Stop! Fucking Hell, Ryan, I don’t like kink-shaming, but I have no qualms about doing so, keep my fucking toes out of your mouth you gremlin.”

Ryan bit his toes again.

“Stop that!!!”

—

“I’m gonna take a visit to Heaven and see if we have anything that could help you,” Shane said whilst Ryan weaved between his feet. Really, he was asking for a death wish trying to trip up a 6’4” angelic being, and Shane didn’t want to be responsible for an emergency animal hospital visit. He didn’t even know where one would be in LA— he only just learned the name of one of his coworkers a couple weeks ago and they’ve been working together for two years!

Ryan only stared up at him after jumping on the counter— “Ryan, get your ass off of there, I just cleaned last night”— and meowed like he wanted to tell him something. Shane opened up his laptop, ignoring him-

“Ryan. Ugh,” Shane groaned, watching the cat settle over his laptop, standing in front of his screen and refusing to budge. “Do you want something? Is that it?” He pawed at Shane’s hand, cool toe beans pushing against it atop the mousepad. Shane sighed again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

“What do you want with me, Ryan? You’re giving me mixed signals here, little guy,” Ryan hissed at the nickname. “You’re like 10 fucking inches tall, Ryan, what do you want me to call you? Big guy?” Ryan just kept pressing his paws against Shane’s hand and Shane decided that if he wasn’t gonna let him work, he might as well make that visit to Heaven now. He withdrew his hand, shaking it free when Ryan clung onto it, and walked over to the living room where he had adequate space, Ryan watching him yet again— “What did I say about getting your ass on my counter?”— from the counter

“I’ll be quick, okay?” Ryan couldn’t say anything, but Shane liked to think that his swishing tail meant yes. That or he was about to get pounced on. He made a silent prayer that he wouldn’t fuck up his apartment while he was gone. Shane waved off Ryan, and then he was gone.

—

“You stink of demons, Shamsiel. Do you seriously still never bother to clean up before you come up here?”

“Nice to see you, too, asshole,” Shane said, rolling his eyes at Gabriel. The piece of shit really liked to stick around him, sometimes, worried that he was after his position. Pfft. As if. If he wanted his position, he would have taken it millenniums ago.

“What are you here for?” Nosy bastard.

“What, I can’t come up to look into shit sometimes?”

“You never come up here if you don’t need something.”

Shane scoffed. “You caught me there.”   
  


“Well?” Shane sighed. For being as old as Gabriel, he really doesn’t know Heaven’s ins and outs well. He’s always taken a liking to Earth.

“Do we have anything on shape-shifting demons? Like, how to revert them?” Gabriel looked at him weirdly, which was funny, really, coming from a six foot guy with an inferiority complex. Napoleon complex. Napoleon reincarnated.

“No. I’ve never even heard of something like that. Why?” He- What?   
  


“Maybe I’m paranoid or just smelling shit wrong, but I thought I saw a cat the other day that smelled- smelled of, y’know.”

“Demon.”

“Yeah.” Gabriel looked contemplative, sifting mentally through their archives.

“Sorry. Nada.” Dammit. Well, it’s not like he could visit Hell. He’ll have to find some other way to get help. Wait-

“What about demons being able to change creatures into other things?” A beat of silence.

“Nope. Nothing on that either. Sorry,” Gabriel said. “You sure you’re just not going insane? Senile, maybe?”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Oh har har, so funny, Gabe,” he said, and Gabriel frowned at the nickname. Serves him right. “If anyone’s senile here, it’s you. Anyways, since you’re basically useless-”

“Hey-”

“-I’ll just head out now,” he said and immediately walked away, listening satisfactorily at Gabriel’s grumbles of disdain. Once out of range of anybody else, he snapped his fingers, dematerializing. Gabriel’s words stuck with him, though.  _ Never heard of shapeshifting demons before? _

—

Watching Ryan laze around, Shane had an idea, though it probably wouldn’t work. Surely he could just… miracle him back, right? Shane snapped his fingers. No naked Ryan materialized on his couch and Cat Ryan just looked at him mortified, realizing, too, that if that had worked, he would’ve materialized in the nude. Shane sighed.

—

“Sorry, I’ve got nothing, sir,” said Layla, the obscure witch that Curly had pointed him towards. “You said this was another demon’s doing?” Shane nodded, and she hummed to herself.

Ryan chose then to jump into Shane’s lap, pacing it as he watched the other cat circle him from the floor. Oh no.

“Mittens, no!” Oh sweet fuck, thank Layla for being so quick. The long-haired tuxedo cat had almost landed on his lap alongside Ryan, aggressively trying to flirt with Ryan who still seemed nervous with wide eyes and heavy breathing despite being held to Shane’s chest and Mittens, to her owner.

“Mittens?”

“If it’s any comfort, I was originally gonna name her socks.”

—

When they materialized back into Shane’s apartment, Shane immediately strode to his room, grabbing his laptop and then returning to the living room where he set up shop to continue researching. Aside from Ryan padding around the living room— progress from him staying in one spot all day yesterday— there wasn’t much going on. Shane could see, though, Ryan continuously looking back at him like he was considering speaking up about something but couldn’t work up the courage.

Eventually, he got roped back into his work, the quiet of the room settling contently.

Half an hour later, at around 7, a paw landed on his shin, and Shane looked past his laptop to see Ryan staring at him from where he saw on the floor.

“Meowww.” Shane raised his brow.

“Meow to you back?”

“Meeeoowww.” Shane looked perplexed, shrugged, and just decided to get back to his-

“FUCK! Ryan! Get your claws out of my leg, dude, seriously!” Ryan immediately withdrew and Shane rubbed at where he'd sunk his claws. “What do you want, Ry?”

Ryan twirled where he stood, almost like he wanted Shane to follow, so he did. He followed him to the kitchen where Ryan stuck to the floor and wiggled his butt before jumping up onto the counter again— “Ryan! Ass! Off!”— and then began meowing once more, not quite face to face with Shane.

“Ryan, buddy, I don’t know what you want with me!” Shane yelled, frustratedly gesturing with him. Ryan meowed almost somberly like he knew and he was sorry but had no other choice. When Shane tried to go back to the living room, Ryan threw himself at the counter, rolling around and meowing almost irritatingly. Shane stared and then placed his hand on Ryan’s belly, wondering if he just wanted pets, except Ryan curled around it, dragging him back around the counter into the kitchen and then licking his paw again to groom himself.

“Ryan.”

“Mmeeeoooww.”

“Little guy. I don’t. Fucking. Know. What you want.” Ryan held a stare. He headed back to the living room only to Ryan’s extreme displeasure.

“RYAN!” he shrieked when the cat once again clawed at his arm. He could heal it with a snap, but right now-

“MEOW!”

“LET me RESEARCH!”

“Meow- MEOW!!”

“RYAN!! What the FUCK?” What did he want???   
  


“Meeeoooowwww!!!”

“Listen here, young man,” Shane said, sidling up to him on the counter, down eye-to-eye, “you don’t fucking scratch me if you want something out of-”

—

When Sara waived the lock open, she did not expect the reason that no one was opening the door to be Shane, a grown 6’4” angel, arguing with Ryan, still a cat. Shane was flushed in the face, voice high and eyes bulging as he gestured wildly in front of Ryan. Ryan, meanwhile, had narrowed eyes, meowing calmly and then aggressively in tandem, hissing when Shane shouted insults.

Neither noticed her breaking in.

“BOYS! What the FUCK is going on here?” she yelled, startling both. She pointed at Shane, “Stop yelling at Ryan!”

Shane gawked at her, throwing his hands between Ryan and himself, looking like she’d disgraced his ancestors. She lightly noted the red slashes across his cheek. “Seriously, what the fuck is going on between you two?! I said make up with each other!! Not this shit!!”

She bent down and Ryan jumped down from the counter, running into her arms sloppily and meowing heartily. She scratched behind his ears as he rubbed his head against her arm and hands. Shane was livid. “Are you fucking kidding me?! He scratched me! He  _ clawed my fucking face _ ! You want me to help find people to help but he won’t let me do my fucking jo-”

Sara tuned him out, asking Ryan, “What do you want, Ryan?” He placed his paw on her mouth, his eyes pleading.

“Well?” 

Sara was quiet for a beat before Ryan removed his paw, licking at it.

She turned to Shane. “Have you been feeding him?”

The apartment was so quiet, a dropping pin could’ve been taken for a hammer cracking down on glass.

“Shane?!?”

“I’m sorry!! I didn’t realize he needed to eat!!!”

“How does that slip your mind?!”

Shane genuinely did look sorry, and yelled back, “I- I don’t know?! Demons and Angels don’t need to eat!! We only do it for pleasure or routine!!! I didn’t realize he had to eat frequently as a cat!! I only ate bread and eggs yesterday morning, he didn’t say shit-”

“Jesus fucking Christ-”

“-I can’t materialize food, Sara,” he said, long-suffering, but Sara was already bolting towards his fridge, shaking its contents in retrieving two eggs before she ruffled through his cabinet to find oil and a pan. Quickly, she’d whipped up a plate of scrambled eggs that hopefully wouldn’t upset Ryan’s stomach and placed it in a bowl of Shane’s despite his protests.

Shane hated to admit it, but the quick, choppy, happy mewls Ryan made while devouring the eggs were cute. Of course, though, he wasn’t going to accidentally starve Ryan like that again to try and hear it. “I promise I’ll get some cat food,” he said to Sara afterward, who was petting Ryan on the couch in the living room.

“You better,” she said back before moving Ryan— reluctantly— onto the couch cushions. “Why can’t you just snap some food into existence?”

“I told you, I can’t,” he muttered.

“Why are you so useless-"

“Hey!”

“I need to go,” she said, standing up. “I have work tomorrow and I need to call in for Ryan in the morning. I just wish I could find someone who was able to help.”

“How many people have you gone through?”

“About four,” she said, eyes watching Ryan beside her where Shane couldn’t see.

“About? How do you go through ‘about four’ people, was one of them cut in half? Three and a half people?”

“Don’t-”

“Two and a half men?” he grinned.

“I should send Ryan after your throat for that,” she said, rolling her eyes and then started making her way to the door while Shane dried off his hands. “Don’t forget. Make up while you two are here, why don’t you? Seriously, it's been _two days_. Alright? Bye."

And then she was out the door. The apartment sunk into silence and when he made his way into the living room to grab his laptop, he realized Ryan was already asleep on the couch as he was wont to do.

For a while, he watched him, Sara’s words repeating in his head and then he pursed his lips. He closed off the lights, turned on the heater, and then returned to his room, yawning in exhaustion despite it only being 9PM.

For a while, he lounged around on Instagram, seeing what his close brethren Scott had been up to across LA, and then he searched up Ryan, remembering the last name Curly gave him yesterday. Birgara? Bagara? He tried both. Bergara, he typed in at last, and then he found him, peering over his photos of his time in Buzzfeed, before that, pictures with… a family? He doesn’t remember demons being the kind to group up… 

His eye then caught a picture of a younger Ryan, standing next to a man a tad bit taller than him, broad-shouldered, graying and short-haired with a goatee and donning a pinstripe suit, and he remembered sending a letter just a month ago— Jesus Christ, it’s been a month already? Almost a month?— to one of Raziel’s old disciples. Or as he now went by, Jackson. Jason. Something like that. Maybe the latter.

Staring unseeing at his phone, Shane thought he’d caught onto a lead that might be able to help. He repeated his routine of charging his phone, turning in, and then fell asleep. He’ll look into the option tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

“Sincere… ly… Shamsi… el,” Shane muttered, signing off the letter to Jason (he’d confirmed with Ryan). He snapped, watching the letter disappear down towards the underworld, and then he sat back in his seat, dusting his hands. “All in a good day of work,” he said, and from the couch in front of him, Ryan tilted his head lightly baring his teeth in the universal expression of, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I will not explain myself to some lowly cat,” Shane said, upturning his nose dramatically. Ryan meowed. “Oh, yes, I’m sorry for such disrespectful behavior, my lord. I shan’t procrastinate next time, oh holy one, whisker boy.” Ryan squinted his eyes and began purring lightly. Shane hoped that meant he was laughing.

—

“Why is there so much cat fur on this spot on the couch?” Sara asked. It was now Wednesday, and still, neither had had any progress with finding someone to revert Ryan. Shane also likes to think that they’re on better terms now. If they weren’t that’d really make the next potential couple of weeks together miserable.

Through the Cosmic Crisp Shane was eating, he gargled, “Sleeps ‘ere.” He took a second to swallow so he could speak clearly. “Can cats eat apples?”

Sara picked up pellets of fur and wagged her finger at Ryan sitting on the coffee table. “Yes, just don’t feed him the apple seeds or the core. They’re toxic to animals.” Shane extended the part of the apple he’d already bitten into to Ryan on the table who extended his head from his loaf position to lick and bite at the offering, nose, and eyes scrunching as he nibbled at pieces on the edge of the apple.

Once cleared, Sara sat down. “Does he have a litter box?”

“Yeah, I bought one the morning after you dropped him off. It’s in the restroom. Surprisingly makes the restroom smell a lil’ cleaner.” Shane took another bite of the apple, removing a chunk and placing it in front of Ryan on the table to eat.

“So you have him cat food and a litter box, but not a cat bed?” Sara asked.

“Well,” Shane shrugged, swallowing down a bite he’d taken, “I thought the litter box was an obvious necessity, but he can literally just sleep wherever the fuck he wants, so I didn’t think I had to get a cat bed. Especially since he’s only gonna be here till we can revert him.” 

Sara hummed in obvious judgment and reached over to poke Ryan’s butt. Not unexpectedly, Ryan turned around, alarmed and pupils dilated. Shane and Sara wheezed to Ryan’s dismay who just went back to eating his apple.

“Seriously, though,” Sara said, getting her bearings back, “get him a cat bed, dude! It’s cold in here. Ryan must be cold as shit. If he comes back with arthritis because of you, I’m calling PETA.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine,” Shane said, waving her off. Rolling her eyes, she knelt forward and began stroking Ryan’s back. Shane shot up, still chewing.

“Don’t do that,” he said, wiping away the apple juices spilling out from the corners of his mouth. “Scratch his cheeks. He likes that best,” he said and sat back. Sara gave him a weird look but did as he advised much to Ryan’s enjoyment. At least they were making up fast… 

—

Later, while lounging on the couch with Ryan, Shane googled the benefits of getting your pet a bed. He felt a pool of guilt at the bottom of his stomach, reading the first on the list, “ Instant comfort. Imagine sleeping on the floor every night.” Surely Ryan was fine? He slept on a couch after all… 

He skimmed the rest of the list— satisfaction, helps with skin problems, special place— and he got up, startling Ryan who immediately scooted over to the warm spot on the couch that Shane had vacated. Sara’s words repeated in his head.

_ “It’s cold in here. Ryan must be cold as shit.” _

God, that made Shane feel so much worse.

He didn’t have many spare blankets he could really lend, and again, no cat bed. He did, however, if he recalled…

He peered into his cabinet in the hallway, pulling out a couple of cardboard boxes that he’d had stored away after buying shit online. One was about Ryan’s size in general, another a little smaller than him, and one long, thin one. He grabbed a small fleece blanket that he’d never fucking touch himself because those shits itch and then he returned to the living room.

Placing all three on the floor, Shane watched Ryan jump down to sniff at it, paw it at it a little.

“Ryan, you know what a cardboard box is, what are you doing?” he said, confused. Oh well. All that mattered is that Ryan could sleep in one. “Choose the one you like best,” he nudged, waiting for Ryan to curl up in each box he’d set out. He fit really loosely in the biggest box, curled up tightly in the medium one, and sat loaf-like (again) in the longest one. 

Eventually, Ryan curled up, settling in the medium box. He looked content, curling around his body in the box and closing his eyes in the way cats do when they’re warm and comfortable.

Shane let slip a small “aw” and took a picture which Ryan didn’t seem to mind, and then tucked the fleece blanket above Ryan, Ryan purring, the vibrations rumbling through Shane’s hand where he began scratching his cheek. He headed back to the couch, setting up shop for another hour’s worth of work.

—

At around 12:30AM, Shane shut his laptop and then shut his lights in the kitchen. In the mouth of the hallway, though, he stood reluctantly for a moment, watching Ryan sleep in his box on the floor. He knew it wasn’t the best situation, imagining the hard, uncomfortable flat surface under Ryan’s body, and watched the curve of his neck into his fetal position. It looked uncomfortable. Should he invest in a cat bed for him? It was only temporary, but… who knew how long temporary would last?

He looked around the empty room. The silence refused to answer back to him, and Ryan’s faint breaths were the only sign of life in the room beside him really.

It felt melancholy.

He turned on the heater and headed in.

For 20 minutes, he tossed and turned, thinking. His thoughts weren’t coherent, and he kept glaring into the dark, though unseeing. Eventually, he sat up in his bed and grabbed his laptop again. The bright display of his screen forced him to squint, easing as he navigated google, searching “cat bed” images.

After a couple of minutes, he stopped. He knew it didn’t have to be all that special or extravagant, but he couldn’t really click with anything he saw. He gave himself a moment’s notice and then googled “funny cat beds” instead. He scrolled through more types of beds for give or take a minute- and then he saw it. 

Oh  _ god _ , it was perfect.

In retrospect, smiling like a maniac in the dark wasn’t the best image for him. Could you blame him, though? I think not.

This was too good. He quickly placed the online order, and then just because he got a little… intrigued, he scrolled down, peering into the similar buys by other customers, and then he found his next gem of the night.

“Holy shit, Ryan is going to hate this,” he mumbled to himself as he placed a second less expensive order and then tucked away his laptop, falling asleep with excitement, but also the feeling that he was content with that night’s decisions.


	9. Chapter 9

It was Saturday yet again, and it’s been a little over a week since Ryan got turned into a cat. His packages had yet to arrive still, and he hadn’t told Ryan about them, so in the meantime, they were watching Netflix. Just to be obnoxious, too, Shane put on “A Street Cat Named Bob” which, big mistake by the way. He almost cried during the film, keyword being almost.

Ryan on the other hand- oh boy, he’s sure cats can’t cry, but when he turned to him in the middle of the scene at James’s house, he was sure he could see a glassy sheen over his big cat eyes. When they eventually got to James writhing, his pale stretches of skin and ribs sticking out, erratic and retching, Ryan seemed even more uncomfortable. Shane patted the spot next to him on the couch and Ryan reluctantly curled up on it, stumbling, unable to tear his worried eyes from the screen.

At the end of the movie, they sat quietly for a while. Shane broke it, teasing, “Why can’t you be as supportive, huh?”

The resulting bite was worth the tease.

—

On Monday, Shane brings him for a walk because he thought Ryan might be mentally exhausted doing nothing but lounging around all day. Well- he thought normal cats were cool with that? But Ryan isn’t a normal cat  ~~ and at this point, if anyone hurt him, he’d hail Armageddon himself and then eliminate himself from existence ~~ so he knew he had to do  _ something  _ at least.

As demeaning as it probably felt, he had to put Ryan in a harness. He didn’t want him getting spooked by some dog on the walk and running into traffic, and really, it’d be much easier to keep track of him that way.

After a good twenty minutes of walking, he began to worry. He knew he shouldn’t, really, Ryan’s probably adapted to going long distances for rescues in his cat form, but he couldn’t help it. The streets were occasionally roughened or littered with broken glass. He picked up Ryan against his mewling protests and perched him on his shoulder.

~~ He received a lot of compliments on the walk about himself and Ryan. Whenever someone stuck around for too long, though, Ryan would start up a small, sad purr, and then began aggressively grooming Shane's already mussed up hair to grab his attention. ~~

He liked to think that that day went well, though he didn’t appreciate having to stay up later to complete work he’d procrastinated on for Ryan.

—

The next day, Tuesday, the items arrived. The second he opened the door to the delivery guy holding the two boxes, Shane was beaming, cat-dad grin and all. Really, he shouldn’t be getting so attached for just a week and a half with him, but he was looking forward to this for so many fucking days. Quickly, he signed the parcel, taking the light boxes into hand and kicking the door shut behind him as he went. The smooth cardboard beneath his fingers almost felt surreal, and he guessed Ryan could see the glee on his face when he walked into the living room because he was staring at him alarmed. 

He looked like that “[nervously laughing] What the fuck?” meme, eyeing the packages.

“You’re gonna fucking hate me for this, dude,” Shane said maniacally. “Put your claws to use and rip the tape, will you?” he asked, and Ryan looked like he was trying to telepathically communicate, “Oh I’ll put them to use, alright. On your face.”

Hilariously, the claw he’d sunk in got stuck and Shane had to help Ryan pull out his hooks, but the hole was enough for Shane to work with. Tearing apart the tape, cursing at the parts that bunched up and dug into his skin, he opened the parcel and revealed the folded up  [ banana cat bed ](https://calmdoge.com/products/banana-shape-pet-bed?utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=google&utm_campaign=Google%20Shopping&gclid=Cj0KCQjwncT1BRDhARIsAOQF9LkVP_fRNG8U_Gn65Q9RUGimBKNU_Yx87ppaqimQudI86dpLoTfvyKQaAiv8EALw_wcB) and let Ryan walk on over to inspect it.

Ryan took one look at the thing, glanced at Shane, looked back at the box, and then back at Shane.

Shane lost it.

And while Ryan looked disgraced for a good few, he eventually began purring alongside Shane’s dying chortles, lungs feeling like lead and stomach heaving in pain from the laughter. His pillows were soon messed up from his flailing limbs and his ears were flushed bright red, a light sheen of tears down his eye=bags that he tried to wipe away before breaking into another fit.

Overall, it took 10 minutes before Shane could even function properly enough to remove the cat bed and fold it out. For a couple of minutes, he let Ryan explore the cat bed, “unpeeling” it for him to enter and shutting it on him, experimenting together how well he meshed with it. Overall? Shane thinks it was a good investment. Ryan could curl up as tightly as he had in the cardboard box, expect now, the bottom was cushioned, and the sides of the cat bed were fluffy and insulated.

For a minute or so, too, he played peek-a-boo, closing the thing while Ryan was in it and then slowly opening it to see Ryan’s glowing, unamused eyes or his nose trying to wiggle out of the hole. Shane grinned and took pictures, of course, sending them to Sara enthusiastically after he remembered they traded numbers (on more willing terms).

But boy, oh, boy, Shane  _ wasn’t done yet, baby _ . If you’ll recall, Shane bought TWO things.

This time using a pen to puncture the tape, Shane tore apart the smaller package, Ryan watching over the rim of his new cat bed. 

Out from it, Shane revealed a  [ toast collar ](https://www.amazon.com/Adnikia-Creative-Bread-Shaped-Headdress-Dressing/dp/B07VD5PS2C) . Ryan, to say the least, looked absolutely disgraced, like he’d taken a shit on his favorite childhood toy, and Shane fucking lost it. He absolutely went fucking apeshit, oh god. Holy shit. He- He can’t- Fuck-

In seconds, Shane was on his side on the couch, tears down his face and a wide grin splitting it, his cheeks hurting accompanied by unabashed wheezing. He- He can’t!! Oh god, oh fuck!! Holy shit!! He’s- He’s inconsolable. Every few seconds he let out a lung rattling cackle, eyes shut in sheer joy.

He feels something wet touching his cheek and for a split second, he pries his eyes open only to come face to face with Ryan poking his nose at Shane, eyes wide and filled with concern. If Ryan wasn’t worried that Shane might accidentally discorporate himself by busting a lung open or cracking a rib so much so that he pierced a lung, he would’ve been pushed over the edge. Instead, he wheezed, tried to control his breathing for Ryan’s sake, and shakily brought up a hand to pet Ryan’s head, his fat tabby head bunting it repeatedly. It took a few minutes, but by the end of it all, he was still wiping away tears, muttering “oh shit” here and there and sitting up, chest heaving. 

He almost,  _ almost  _ relapsed into another fit a few times. They were close calls, but it didn’t happen. Eventually, he’d calmed enough to just be Shane, sitting back on his couch with Ryan sat next to him, purring in contentment at his being petted.

Once he calmed entirely, Shane heaved himself up, grabbing the toast collar and bringing it towards Ryan who twirled in protest where he was settled. Shane pouted at him, fighting the smile twitching at the corner of his lip. He tried to weave it onto Ryan only for Ryan to wiggle free of it.

“C’mon, little guy,” he muttered. Ryan let out a burst of irritated meows, shaking his head profusely and Shane, ironically, gave him sad puppy eyes, practically begging. “Not even for Sara?”

Ryan froze, and he looked at Shane with narrowed eyes like he hated that Shane was using his friend against him. Eventually, though, he caved and walked towards Shane, sticking his head out but not before bunting his hand a bit again. Shane chuckled and fitted the toast collar to Ryan’s neck and grinned.

It was so fucking cute, holy shit. “My boy is growing so well,” he said in glee, wiping a fake tear from his eye and earning an eye roll from Ryan. Quickly, he took out his phone and snapped pictures, making sure to get Ryan from all angles and chortling at the extreme side-eye Ryan was giving him. He sent the pictures to Sara who he assumed was out of work now since it was, like 6PM. She might’ve been out scavenging for help, he thought to himself and cringed a little in guilt, remembering that it’s almost been two weeks of her potentially worrying for her friend and Shane was here goofing off with him.

He hoped she ended up liking the photos, anyways.

—

Saturday rolls around again, marking the second week with Ryan and… well, there’s been a couple of firsts with Ryan. Though Ryan has been cuddling up next to Shane and purring on occasion, it only happened when Shane offered it. Today… today was a different story.

Much like every other weekend, he spent some time doing at-home work because deadlines are a bitch. And sure he was an angel, but that didn’t mean he could materialize money or a place to stay. Well. Technically he could miracle others into letting him through, but that wasn’t any fun. And besides, he’d be bored if he didn’t have anything to do, so, just to humor himself, he tried his best to make a living. In the case that he was in danger of losing his place, though, then he would employ his powers, but otherwise? His use was pretty scarce. A need-to-need basis only, if you will.

Anyways, he’s been working on weekends as routine, and normally, Ryan left him alone. 

Except, today, he jumped up onto the couch and wormed his way through the gap of Shane’s elbows of his own volition, settling on Shane’s hips where he wouldn’t get in the way of his work on his laptop but also close enough to cuddle into the combined body heat of his lap and stomach.

To say Shane was surprised was an understatement. There he sat, frozen and gaping at Ryan who, before, had never climbed onto Shane because he wanted to. In seconds, he was purring on him, sleep and warmth overtaking his mind.

He… he blanked out for a good few minutes. Maybe more than that because his laptop screen eventually went black… he couldn’t be bothered to move Ryan or himself in his endeavors to keep working. It was… what…? He’s been blessed? 

An angel blessed by a demon. Ironic.

Eventually, he got over himself, but rather than keep working the way he had, hunched in, he began typing and moving with his shoulders out, keeping his elbows from striking Ryan on accident. It sort of hurt, but he didn't want to accidentally wake him up.

Well… there’s a first for everything, he guessed. He wonders if this counts for making up… 

—

“Sorry, I don’t think I can help you.”

Shane sighed yet again. It was now Monday evening, a little over two weeks since Ryan was transformed, and there still wasn’t anything to be done. He looked somberly at Ryan on the coffee table and imagined that his brows furrowed up as he let out a sad meow in lieu of the rejection. “It’s fine. Sorry for disrupting your night,” he said and leaned on his elbows upon the counter.

“Can I see him? It’s unlikely, but maybe I can get a better feel of things, too?” Shane didn’t know how that was gonna work, but honestly, Sara's seemed frazzled out of her mind lately so he's willing to try anything in case it could help.

There was a pang of silent guilt in the back of his head, though, one that arose every time he felt joy arise at the rejections people gave. He didn’t want Ryan to be stuck any longer, worried about his living situation and all if he were stuck as a cat, but Shane was… getting attached to him. He didn’t like admitting it, especially since he’d fallen so quickly, but he’d be sad to see him go.

**You don’t own him. You have no claim over Ryan. And worst of all, you’re on opposite sides. A Demon and an Angel.**

He panned the camera over to Ryan, still, embarrassingly, wearing his toast collar. It was ridiculous at first, but Ryan had gotten almost an entire week to get used to it and it did seem to bring a level of comfort, oddly. In the silence of the warlock observing Ryan, his eyes glinting with a hint of sentience, Shane thought back to the letter that Jason had sent back. It took a long time for the reply to come back, but to be fair, how do you respond appealingly in light of knowing your subordinate was under the thumb of the enemy? You don’t.

The gist of the response was that Ryan was basically an oddball, especially because of the elements he was born of. Jason didn’t elaborate on that, but essentially, it gave him his own mission that oddly granted him the ability to transform in lieu of achieving it, indirectly under God’s command. It was… weird… to say the least. Ryan was a demon with… angelic purposes? Duties? Almost like a principality, he supposed. It was odd and a loophole and Shane was meant to keep this under wraps. Glancing at the tabby purring contently in front of his phone, Shane made that promise to his own self. 

“Huh,” the warlock started, “he really is… a cat… I can’t gleam much really. This is seriously unheard of, even with the demons I’ve been conduit to before. You’re sure he’s not possessing anything?”

Shane muttered no, assuring him that the ability in and of itself was unique to Ryan. He hummed further. “Well, the only other option I can see this occurring is via witch, naturally. Aside from him, I guess, the only other beings I know able to conduct animal transformation are witches, namely when they’re in search of familiars or messengers or even just transforming themselves. But we already covered that he isn’t one, so…”

“So no dice.”

“Yeah. Sorry, dude,” he genuinely looked apologetic through the phone screen, and that pint of joy and wave of guilt bit him in the ass again.

Shane reassured him and thanked him one last time before ending the call.

Ryan let out a sad, drawn-out meow that came to a questioning pitch at the end.

“I know, little guy,” Shane cooed. Ryan didn't even hiss at the nickname. “I'm sorry.”

—

It was Friday evening, almost three full weeks. Sara had dropped by the night before to find the two of them moping around again, watching Netflix. This time, the documentary “Kedi” on several Istanbul stray cats. It was a delight up until Sara startled the fuck out of them by waiving the lights on throughout the apartment, emerging from the dark like some sort of grim reaper and igniting a three-minute yelling match that more consisted of Shane and Ryan making excuses and pouting in between Sara laughing her ass off.

They updated each other on their different plans, Shane mentioning who he’d already talked with and who he was planning to talk with while Sara took notes on her phone so she knew who not to overlap with. By the end, it was night out, but it was a Friday, and the city was alive. It’d grown slightly warmer, and while it didn’t do much for the evenings, it was still marginally better than before in January. Shane noted that almost two months had passed since he and Ryan met.

They decided, calmly, that it’d be fun to all go out shopping together. They strolled through the more occupied streets, Ryan perched on Shane’s shoulders and Sara walking quickly beside him to accommodate for her shorter legs. They passed book stores, grocery stores, the park, staying within a good radius of Shane’s apartment.

The night was bright and the streets were lit with socializing and street lights. It was cold, but not overwhelmingly so, and Ryan donned a gray hoodie that Sara had made for him, and a collar she’d bought just for this occasion, Shane and Sara’s contact information decorating the inside of it in sharpie.

All was well. Everything was going great and Shane and Ryan were sharing treats at every opportunity. Sara had a bundle of items she’d bought and so did Shane, carting around both items he wanted and small trinkets for Ryan, which Sara gave him a couple of weird looks for. They all laughed along together (or purred, in Ryan’s case) and nothing could go wrong.

Until it did.

Shane felt hairs tingling on his neck, and scented the obsessively cool, fresh air with a hint of natural fragrance. His heart stopped for a second, his hands made to grab for Ryan, but before he knew it, he was gone— bolting instinctively down the streets, down alleys far beyond where Shane and Sara could catch up and a rampant force knocking over items along the way, scorching the Earth it flew upon.

An Angel.

No, no, NO!!! FUCK!!! NO!! Shane took off running, dropping the shit he carried and bolted through the streets illuminated only by the night lights, now more ominous, shielding the shadows where he might easily skip over Ryan.

He yelled for him at the top of his lungs, “RYAN!!!” echoing down alleyways and the street, marching into emptied lots, by small businesses- everything.

Nothing. Ryan was too faint a scent for him to catch a whiff of his familiar sulfur and ash, and the Angel had gone too swiftly for Shane to lock onto his scent.

The lots were deserted, the trail of fire upon the concrete was gone.

He was gone. He was fucking gone- No- Fuck. FUCK!!

“FUCK!! NO!!! RYAN!!!” he screamed. Don’t tell him that it caught him- please, please, please-

But no matter his pleas, there wasn't a scent of soot nor flowers to be found in the air.

He stood shell shocked against the opening of the alley for minutes? Hours? He didn’t know, not even bothering to check when Sara appeared next to him, eyes glossy and red. 

Ryan was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

It’s been two days. Shane and Sara immediately set up missing posters, took to Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, the local shelters, everything- in search of Ryan.

But nothing turned up.

He had disappeared with the night and it was his fucking fault. Sara had warned about this, the first day. He knew- He  _ knew _ … firsthand even… that Ryan was so much easier to detect in his cat form. Except when he needed him to be easily found the most… he was gone.

Shane was devastated. Sara was frazzled as well, crying at the possibility that her best friend was gone, but Shane was completely out of it. He wasn’t there, and Ryan disappearing had suddenly carved a hole in his chest that pulsed with hurt.

The cat bed and toast lying on the table became sudden, aching reminders. The counter was Ryan’s domain, the couch was Ryan’s first bedding, the AC helped keep Ryan warm at night back then, the bathroom was where he and Ryan had annoyingly shared a laugh every time Ryan tried to bite his toes, the kitchen was where he cooked Ryan his little itty bitty snacks-

It hurt. It hurts to become emotionally invested with things you’re fated to outlive. Unless he was extremely unlucky to be cornered by other fallen angels, Shane would live forever. Ryan wasn’t guaranteed that, and now? He might have just cut his life short.

How low did he get that he’d gone from hunting a demon to grieving one? Is this what love was? The lines between platonic and romantic have blurred, which is weird because Ryan was still a cat and yet… he remembered their before’s and afters of his transformation with nothing but fondness, even in their times of fighting.

He couldn’t bear to imagine how bad it was for Sara, too, who’d been around him for much longer and who  _ trusted Shane with her best friend _ . She kept moving around, checking sites, checking notices all over LA.

Bloody fucking LA. Los Angeles.  _ The city of the Angels _ .

He breathed, and it hurt. He exhaled, doing nothing for the small tickle down his cheeks and neck. He couldn’t bear to move knowing that everything reminded him of Ryan. He was an Angel, God’s most powerful creations… and yet he was useless, not even knowing if Ryan was still alive, better yet who it was that went after Ryan.

Those scriptures that defined Angels as being the embodiment of hope have never been more wrong. All he could think about was Ryan being caught up in the claws of a sadistic feathered fuck aiming to torture him to the brink of insanity before wiping his entire existence from all planes.

Distantly, he felt Sara wrap her arms around his head and pull him into a hug against the crook of her neck. Despite that, he’s never felt so alone.

—

_ Meow _ .

Shane tossed and turned in his bed. It was now Tuesday, and he’s lost track of how long he’d had Ryan for. He knew it wasn’t long, but it felt like he’d had him forever.

_ Meowww _ .

It’s been three weeks, he thinks. And yet, three weeks had never felt like such a crawl before. Thousands of years had gone by for him in the blink of an eye. Now it felt like a millionth of a fraction of that was eighty percent of it. He couldn’t fathom it.

_ Meeow _ ?

His coworkers have been giving him space. He’d openly talked about Ryan before, practically sharing an abundance of pictures on social media and showing him off whenever he could. When he walked in on Monday, tear-stained and sluggish, his cheeks still red and eyes puffy, everyone had assumed the worst as well.

_ Meeoowww _ .

They offered him days off, time to himself, time to leave, time to look. He declined, saying that he had to distract himself. If he spent even one second more thinking about him, he might break down.

_ Mrrp _ .

Which was what he was doing right then and there. An ache building behind his temples and his eyes strained from looking into nothing in particular, moments at a time scouring their notices for any advice as well. His mind was too heavy to sleep. Outside his room, Sara had taken the couch, too grievous to sleep comfortably without anyone around.

_ Mrrrrr _ .

Shane had sent Jason a letter two days ago, on Sunday. He wrote as detached as he could afford, but he knew that drying puddles would be visible on the sheet of paper. He didn’t know how to break the news to the Fallen Angel that his subordinate had died under his care. He didn’t even know if he cared, but it was worth the shot. Maybe he already knew, as well. He didn’t expect a quick reply, though.

_ Meow! _

That’s why, when a flame burst out on his bedside table despite not charring its surroundings, he was irked. Surprised. In the dying light, he watched a new letter materialize, and he stumbled over his feet rushing to the light switch before he practically somersaulted back onto his bed with the letter.

_ Dear Shamsiel, _

_ I am aware that it has been long since our last casual correspondence. I am also grateful that you’ve been respectful of the information regarding Ryan’s circumstances. I’m not sure you know this, but despite mistakes I’d made in the past, believing it was best for him, I’ve always regarded Ryan as my son. I trusted you to be able to look after him in his… situation. _

Oh god, oh shit, that makes this hurt so much more. He’s a demon, how bad of an angel do you have to be to disappoint a demon?

_ Don’t be afraid to shed tears. I know you tried to hide it in your letter. I know you cared about him- _

Would this old hag just get it over with and tell him that he’s disappointed in Shane already-

_ -which is why I think you deserve to know that Ryan is not dead. _

Shane stared at the words on the page. Not dead? Wait… what? What did- What did he mean? Holy fuck-

_ I thought you’d have pieced it together already, but if you’ll recall, I told you about how Ryan is… aligned with an angel but not exactly one. Thus, much like you angels- _

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!

_ -death by an angel really only means getting discorporated. It’s limited, of course, due to his demonic nature. Think of it, ironically, as him having nine lives. He’s now down to eight. _

FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK! Shane was on his elbows, now, reading and rereading the words, trying again to process them. Five days of grieving and he was being hit by this information like a brick. It was- it was too much hope to handle.

_ Lastly, I’d also like to inform you that Ryan hasn’t reappeared here in Hell. He is still topside somewhere. _

_ Best regards in finding him Shamsiel, _

_ Jason _

His wings sprouted in excitement and he basically swiftly clawed through his apartment, startling Sara awake on the couch as he tripped himself up in excitement.

“Shane, what’s going on?” she asked frantically, wondering if he’d lost it. His eyes were beams of light, an omnipotent eerie glow that looked all the more holy from his shimmering wings.

“Sara, SARA,” he said, pulling at his hair and then placing his hands carefully on her shoulders, aware of her dried, puffy eyes. “Ryan’s still fucking alive.”

She looked at him. Her jaw dropped and she took a really good look at him. “He-”

“Meowwwww!!”

Their heads both turned to the front door to Shane’s apartment and then they looked back at each other before bolting off the couch and dashing to the doorway, eager to open it up- hopeful-

There on the floor, his gray sweater torn up, and collar still intact was Ryan.

And they celebrated. Sara scooped Ryan up in her arms, hugging him tight like if she let go, he’d disappear again, and she was whispering, “We’re sorry,” over and over again and stroking his head. Shane, from behind, hugged them both, crying tears of joy and into Ryan’s fur, Ryan who was warm and real and in their arms and not dead- Ryan who was there and who was all that mattered at the moment, purring louder than ever with wet eyes.

Ryan, who was home.


	11. Chapter 11

In what had now become Ryan’s bowl, Shane poured out an entire can of wet cat food. Fuck that that one can was expensive as shit, Ryan looked starved ( _again, he was so fucking sorry that this shit happened again_ ) and he’s been gone for five days and Shane _missed him_ . Fuck, Shane even let him eat on the couch after Sara walked back in from bathing him— his legs looked weak standing there on that table, eating out of that bowl. (He hopes that, if he _was_ starved, that the whole can of food wouldn't be upsetting his stomach or something.)

While he ate, Sara pulled Shane aside into the hallway, though it took some effort since it was _so hard_ for Shane to tear his eyes away, afraid he’d get whisked off if he looked away. He noted her furrowed brows and frantic eyes, hand rubbing the back of her neck. “Sara, what is it?”

She exhaled with uncertainty.

“I think I should take Ryan back.”

Shane stood there, speechless. “I- Wh- Did I-... did I do something wrong?” was all he could ask. His voice was cracked and low, a result of his throat being tight with worry for days on end. She shook her head.

“It’s not your fault. It’s just that… this is getting dangerous, Shane. With or without you around, he’s getting targeted-”

“But- It was only one time!”

“It was only one time, yes, Shane, but what about next time? What if he doesn’t come back the next time? I’m not sure you know this, Shane, but I’ve seen what your kind can do before-” Shane flinched- “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen Ryan get nearly torn apart by an angel.”

...What?

“I watched it happen and he disappeared for a few days down under after it. When he came back? His body looked healed, Shane, but he wasn’t fine. I think he nearly died-” _Think of it, ironically, as him having nine lives. He’s now down to eight-_ “Hell, I thought he was dead when I watched it happen. But my point stands. He wasn’t the same after that.”

Shane fumbled for words in the hall, the only light coming from behind him and illuminating her pale frame, the worry lines etched into her forehead now. They were both quiet for a very long time before Shane could find the right words to say.

“What are you- I- I understand if him hanging around the enemy isn't a good idea, Sara… but you have to get, we- it's not like we can shelter him,” he said, his voice dropping down to a whisper. “We love him, but… that’s- we can’t just do that and lock him away like a baby! Ryan knows the risks that come with being alive and topside, not to mention… he can take care of himself. He has since he’s lived before we even came into the picture, and he’s still surviving. He didn’t die this time.” 

“But can he? Can he take care of himself right now?”

No. The answer was he couldn’t. “No, but- I won’t take him outside anymore, or- or any more than I need to. I’ll be more alert next time, I swear.”

“Shane-”

He steeled his voice. “I’m sorry, Sara, I know he's your best friend, but I don’t think I want to hand him over to you, Sara. Not yet. Not when I'm the one here who's more acquainted with the shit that's after his blood.”

Her hand came to her cheek and she sighed into the heel of her palm. For a moment, he thought she’d fight him on that. Fight him for keeping his advantage over her head.

She didn’t. “You’re right. He’s just… felt like a little brother to me, y’know? It’s just hard knowing he’s constantly in danger,” she said. “Fine. I’ll let him continue to stay with you, but, please. Be careful.” Shane nodded, promising her he would.

“Okay. I- I need to go back home. I have work tomorrow and, uh, I think I can rest easy, now. Now that I know Ryan’s safe,” she said and then started towards the living room where she lovingly pet Ryan for a few seconds and then got back up. Almost alarmed, Ryan threw his head in her direction, eyes wide and questioning. “I have to go back to the apartment, Ryan. I have work tomorrow, still, and people are still asking about you. I need to go back,” she explained calmly. Ryan stared for another few seconds like he was processing the information and then jumped off his perch— albeit a little weakly— rubbed his face against her leg as though he was saying “goodbye” and “stay safe”, and then he went right back to eating.

She said goodbye and walked to the door. Before she left, though, she turned to Shane, right behind her, with a small, questioning smile on her face.

“‘ _We_ love him’?” she said, quoting him from earlier. Shane’s ears quickly turned red, heating up with being reminded. He was hoping it slipped past her.

“Shut up, Sara,” was all he could say albeit void of malice.

They shared a laugh in light of passing tragedy, and then she was out the door.

—

Shane stuck around in the living room until 3AM, sticking by Ryan’s exhausted side for as long as he dared after he’d returned at around one. After he’d washed Ryan’s bowl, he walked into the living room, watching Ryan’s head bob as he tried to keep awake, dozing off for a few seconds at a time before jolting back awake in alarm.

His hand is covering the light switch contemplatively. He takes one last look at Ryan, the cat bed, and the toast collar on the coffee table.

He scoops up the nodding Ryan into his arms, shuts off the living room lights, and heads to his bedroom with Ryan cradled in his arms. Once Shane shuts everything off, plugs in, and pulls the blanket over himself and Ryan, Ryan nods off one last time. This time, he doesn’t startle awake again in alarm, and Shane follows, slumbering with the reassurance that Ryan was safe in his arms.

—

(Their third? Fourth?) Thursday rolls around again when Shane tries another contact that Curly has sent him to no avail. Ryan, listening beside him on the couch, no longer responds dejectedly. He, sadly, begins looking resigned. More guilt bites at Shane’s heart.

—

On Friday, Sara comes to check in again that morning, walking in to find Shane sprawled on the couch with Ryan sitting atop him, also asleep, ear twitching at the faint noises that she made. She snaps a picture and goes.

—

That Saturday marked their fourth week together, and Shane spends the better part of his morning running around his apartment with Ryan, weaving through the corners of his furniture and laughing generously as they chased each other in play. He makes them both breakfast later, eating at the table with Ryan. Shane reflects and wonders when he’d stopped thinking of Ryan as the cat around the house and, instead, just “Ryan”. In fact, he wonders if he ever strayed from calling Ryan, just Ryan at all.

—

Monday, he brings Ryan to work with him.

“Oh my god!! Is this the handsome critter you never shut the fuck up about?!” Andrew yelled. Figures that the guy would have the emotional capacity of a brick until you brought up cats. Or Steven from the other Buzzfeed office.

“Yes!! Now you see why I never shut up!!” he replied, falling into the lull of it. This time, he brought Ryan in a carrier instead of having him perched on his shoulder just in case. Andrew wiggled his finger into the cage’s bars and Shane watched as Ryan butted his head against them, letting him scratch the topmost of his head.

“Holy shit, move Ilnyckyj,” Impicche said, wiggling her way to his desk and shoving Andrew out to be the next to scratch Ryan. Shane had to admit, he was a little jealous of how easily he let himself be pet. It took him a good week before Ryan was ever comfortable with letting him pet him unabashed.

“Can we get him out of the carrier?” Jen asked wholesomely excited from the desk diagonal to Shane’s. Shane rubbed the back of his neck, nervously considering it.

“Yeah, I guess. He’s chill, but the last time he was out of a carrier in public,” he started, letting the week before hang in the air.

“We promise we won’t let him out of our sights?” Andrew offered. Shane trusted them, he really did, and looking back at Ryan, he didn’t want him to be cooped up in the carrier for the eight hours he was here either. He agreed.

They cheered, slowly prying open the carrier to not startle Ryan and scooped him out, Kelsey relentlessly planting small smooches against his cheek. It was a little weird when you considered that Ryan had had a human form at one point…

An alert popped up on his phone whilst the others messed around with Ryan, reading “meeting in 1 hr”. He looked back at the others and felt that Ryan would be in good hands while he was gone. He spent the hour he had left there preparing the notes and paperwork he’d been compiling and by the time he had to get to the meeting room, Ryan was asleep yet again in his carrier, exhausted by the others’ relentless affection.

He asked the others to watch him while he was gone, and then he got up and left for the meeting.

—

“Don’t forget, our next meeting is next Friday, 12PM sharp! Don’t be late this time, Bennett!”

“I won’t, sir!” Weird that he was late, really. Usually, he was there before Shane was, and Shane liked going early to avoid, well, being late in case meetings started ahead of schedule. This time, though, he was also giving Shane a lot of fixated looks across the table. Not anything particular, just… curious, maybe?

In fact, when he approached Shane outside of the meeting room, Shane was bordering suspicious. Bennett rarely, if ever, talked to him in the couple of months he’s been here, and when they did, it was just to joke. “I need to show you something,” was all he said before walking off to a remote kitchen in the building, expecting Shane to follow.

In the quiet isolation of it, then, Brent inhaled and sighed, nervous. “Promise me you won’t, like, try to kill me?” What? Why would he kill Brent?

“Uh, sure.”

Brent stared at him. He blinked.

His eyes were black, and the kitchen reeked, strong enough that a human might be able to detect it, of molten rock and soot. Shane snarled instinctively, claws extending-

“WOAH, WOAH, woah, woah- SLOW your ROLL, buddy,” he yelled, hands up to show he wasn’t gonna pull any shit.

“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you hide from me?”  
  


“IwasassignedbyJasontokeepaneyeonyouafterthatfirstletteryousentdowntohell,” he uttered quickly, barely understandable.

“What?” Shane hid his features and Brent followed suit.

“You. He wanted me to keep an eye out. After, uh, the shit you pulled.” Oh. The holy water-soaked letter. Whoops. He almost forgot about that.

Shane’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait, if you’re here to watch me, why did you reveal yourself? And you never answered my second question.”

Brent rolled his eyes, “Jeez, I was getting there. So impatient.” 

Shane brought out his claws again. 

“Jesus-! I didn’t expect you to bring Ryan is all, okay?! I knew the whole fiasco with him being stuck but I didn’t expect you to cart him to work! What is this, bring a demon to work day?” 

Shane stared, unamused, and gestured for him to continue. “Artifact. I’m not telling you anything beyond that.” Eh, that was good enough, he guessed.

Faintly, then, both of their heads swiveled to the faint call of Shane’s name down at the offices. Brent was slow on the uptake, but Shane was already gone the second he heard it, the worried tone clinging to his mind. He barged back into the offices. “Yes?? What’s going on? Is it Ryan? Is he okay?”

“Jesus, shit, calm down, dude,” said Andrew, Ryan meowing heartily as he wiggled fiercely out of his grip and padded over to Shane’s feet. “He was just looking for you, dude. You weren’t lying when you said you were both a little fucked up— he woke up while you were still gone and wouldn’t stop pacing and meowing. We couldn’t calm him down for shit, but then again, he's a cat, so we couldn't expect him to know what the hell a meeting is.”

Shane chuckled a bit in disbelief whilst he picked up Ryan and returned to his desk. Ryan was getting friendly, he guessed, but… it was nice knowing he held a place in his mind, dedicated to him alone. He noted to himself to make sure he let Ryan know where he went the next time he'd have to leave without him.

—

At home, they spend another hour or two (he’s seriously losing his touch) watching some Netflix documentary, “72 Most Dangerous” he thinks, but he can’t really recall.

When bedtime rolls around, he watches Ryan reluctantly curl up into his banana bed again. The first few days back, he’d brought Ryan into his room, but he’d let him be the last two days because... he didn't know how to describe it. He felt like he was being overprotective. Overbearing.

Intrusive. In the end-

_His eyes were black, and the kitchen reeked, strong enough that a human might be able to detect it, of molten rock and soot. Shane snarled instinctively, claws extending-_

_“WOAH, WOAH, woah, woah- SLOW your ROLL, buddy,” he yelled, hands up to show he wasn’t gonna pull any shit-_

he was... he was still an _angel_ after all. 

He shut off the TV and hesitated to close the lights this time, Ryan curled up in his banana bed. Shane pursed his lips.

“Hey, Ryan,” he said, drawing his attention. “I’m gonna leave my bedroom door open,” and he left it at that.

Ten minutes later, laying in bed restless, he heard the pitter-patter of feet and Ryan’s collar clinking as he wormed his way through the small opening Shane left for him. He scooted, making a small tent beside him in the bed for Ryan to crawl into, and fell asleep as short fur tickled his arm, warmth curling against his chest.

Everything would be okay.


	12. Chapter 12

Ryan thinks it’s been a month now. Over a month. Who knows. His days feel longer than they’d ever been, and he spends a lot of time asleep. He’s not sure how Sara has kept their apartment afloat and kept Ryan from losing his job, meanwhile. Maybe he shouldn’t be questioning the capabilities of a witch of her tier.

He’s starting to feel bad. He’s still stuck as… this… and she has to juggle all that shit herself. When he learns that his brother has been stepping in, he’s a bit thankful and a little more relieved. Jake has always come in clutch, organized and someone he’s proud to have for a “younger brother”.

Ryan thought about all of this while the audio “Why are we in this world just to suffer?” from Metal Gear Solid played in the background of his blank staring. This is… the fifth time this week? That Shane’s been trying to make TikTok’s out of him? At this rate, he doesn’t need to tease to get him to become existential. He’s doing it well enough on his own already.

—

When Sara bursts in on the Sunday of the week after he brought Ryan with him to work, Shane wasn’t expecting it. However, the bright look on her face, of triumph and victory told him all he needed to know. He, in turn, grinned in triumph with her, but in truth his wants clashed inside of him.

She’d consulted her grandmother, an expert in wizardry and witchcraft, and with time they had devised a spell for use since no one else seemed to be capable of helping. He thinks it’s been a month and a half with Ryan.

All of the shit they’d been through, and, well, just several minutes would reset it all. Maybe bring them back to square one.

He was happy for him really. No one wants to be stuck as a cat forever, and Ryan had his own life to tend to. He couldn’t just stay there because Shane wanted a companion, had no real close friends, maybe even liked him- Shane didn’t own him. Ryan could still stick around, but he wasn’t obligated to do so as badly as Shane wanted him to. And especially not like that. Shane wasn’t entitled to Ryan. Shane wasn’t meant for Ryan.

He reminded himself; he was an Angel and Ryan was a Demon.

Watching Sara conduct the ritual, he thought back on all they’d been through together. It was short, but it felt like it lasted months, if not years, which was saying a lot for a being who’d experienced millenniums of existence. Having him around just made him… take every second slower, he guessed.

He was quiet when a tide of magic flooded the room, and Shane noted mentally to be wary of Sara when she was pissed. He might be ethereal, but he could still get hurt.

Light seemed to split his vision apart. It was all-consuming in the dark of Sara and Ryan’s apartment. When cleared, it was Ryan standing before them, wide-eyed and standing (thankfully) clothed.

They celebrated vigorously, but to Shane, every smile and joyous laugh he made for him felt forced. Backed by doubt and guilt.

It ate up his heart, but he didn’t let it show. Not when Ryan was smiling and laughing so happily in the middle of his living room, so glad to be back and hugging him and Sara desperately in thanks.

He let himself run on auto while flames of insecurity licked at the back of his head. 

**You don’t deserve this. Not when you didn’t want to see it.**

—

Before he leaves, he asks Sara to talk with him on the balcony, Ryan stuck inside contacting friends and family and their workplace. Normally, Shane doesn’t smoke even though it wouldn’t do anything to him, but he decided "fuck it" and pulled out a cigarette anyway, felt it was appropriate for the situation. Outside, he and Sara watched the darkening sky. They’d missed the sunset and its various colors swathing LA from behind the blackout curtains they employed for the ritual. Shane snapped, lighting the cigarette.

“Shane? What did you bring me out here for?” Sara asked, a twinkle of regret behind her eyes.

Shane exhaled the smoke curling in the air around them and getting blown away by the early April breezes. “Did you lie to me?”  
  


She was quiet, and when Shane turned, she was smiling at him mischievously. “What do you think?”

Shane smirked. Dammit. “I think… you thought you could help Ryan and me fix the shit between us after he eavesdropped on me by accident,” he exhaled more wisps of smoke, “and then you realized you couldn’t turn Ryan back… and dumped him on me just to go through with the original plan.”

Sara chuckled. “Well, I still dumped him on you because I thought he was safer with you. But everything else is correct.” A beat of silence. “When did you figure it out?”

“A warlock told me they thought that Ryan’s transformation sounded like a witch’s doing. I should’ve figured out you were a witch when you resisted my influence back at In-N-Out, really, but I didn’t figure it out until you broke in while Ryan and I were watching movies. Was everyone I called in on it?”

She shook her head, the last rays of light illuminating her stray hairs and piercing her curls. “Not all of them, but most of them. The names you gave me. They genuinely didn’t know how to help, though, but I’m still surprised none of them spilled.”

“Me, too.”

It was quiet. They went back inside as the chilly air settled, then, and because he couldn’t bear to do it, Shane left without telling Ryan goodbye.

—

Stepping into the apartment was different, now, knowing that Ryan wasn’t there to greet him at the end of his workday and drag him over to the couch to watch TV or something. It felt lonely. Lonelier than it’s felt in thousands of years. Everything was still like it was frozen in time, unchanged from when Ryan was still a cat except that was no longer the case.

His footsteps sounded pathetic, he thought to himself as he picked up the now abandoned banana cat bed, throwing the toast collar and toys littered around the place into it.

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten invested. He saw this coming.

And now, he had nothing but trinkets that only held painful memories. He didn’t want to throw out the items… but what else was he to do with them?

He felt stuck in time. He’d never had children or lovers before, but he’d imagined that this must be what it felt like to lose someone and still have their things lying around, impervious to change and unaware that _your entire world_ had just changed. 

He stood there for several minutes, just hugging the items to his chest. There would be no more Ryan to play peek-a-boo with him in the banana cat bed, no more Ryan to annoy with the toast collar. The laser pointer was pointless now and the cat teaser would just be put away to never be used again.

The apartment felt so fucking _empty_ and he just felt so _ti_ _red_.

Silently, because there was no longer anybody in the apartment— _to talk to, to joke around with, to have someone who could just listen_ — he walked to his bedroom, shut the door tight, and curled up under his sheets. He’d tucked the collection of cat items by his bedside table for the time being, and he just lied there thinking about everything and nothing all at once. It felt like looking at a screen listing all he had lost and acknowledging it but refusing to really see it, zoning out as if he were looking into the distance and not the reality he had to face.

“Dammit, Bergara,” Shane laughed quietly into his pillow. 

But it was a hollow laugh. 

A hollow laugh, fit for a man with a hollow heart. 

A hollow heart, and a hollow home.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Shane had no one to say good night to that day.


	13. Chapter 13

Everyone the Monday after was giving him space again, and he told them all the same story. He was taking care of Ryan for a friend, which was the truth, and now they’d gone and left with him. Everyone gave their condolences, wished him well and hoped that he’d see his kitty again, and he wished every little bit more that Angels were solely meant to feel love, not  _ feel  _ love.

He watched out from the corner of his eye, Brent wince at the sight of him, pale pallor, puffy cheeks, and jaw tight from trying to keep himself together the last two days. He wondered if he was gonna stick around anymore since he’s basically just walked out of Ryan and Sara’s lives.

Turns out, though, he would. Surely, though, he knows that Ryan’s back, right? As much as he hated to be seen by a demon like this, he couldn’t bother hiding his melancholy.

That week came to an end, marking five days since Ryan came back. Another week went by. Three weeks since he’d cut himself from Ryan and Sara because he was too big a wimp to go back and ask to be welcomed in again when it was long past the amount of time that was acceptable.

Week four marked just about three and a half months since Shane met Ryan.

Brent walked up to his desk on Wednesday afternoon, twitchy hands and all, and for a second, Shane contemplated smiting him if he was gonna mock him about still moping around the office. He’d already been talked to by a couple of supervisors who urged that he take some time off if it was gonna throw him off this badly— it was affecting his work performance. He made them forget all that with a snap, but it wasn’t something he could pull on Bennett. “Shane?”

“Hm,” he groaned in answer. “What d’you want?” 

His voice was tighter now, still struggling to speak past the lump lodged in it. He watched Brent wince again and felt irritation boil just below his lungs, the scratchy kind that made the air you exhale feel poked with light snarls. Instead of pointing it out, though, Brent just looked up from him and smiled in the direction behind Shane. What the fuck…?

He swiveled his chair slowly in the direction of sneakers scraping lightly against carpeted floors, the molten heat scent Brent gave off fading into the back of his mind.

He sniffed a more familiar scent— light sulfur and ash, almost so faint he couldn’t sniff it out if he wasn’t so well acquainted with it because he’d spent a month and a half drowning in it  _ only to have it taken from him so abruptly _ -

“Hey, buddy,” Ryan grinned, standing there with a grin splitting his face, eyes squinting in amusement—  _ just like where he was a cat _ — “You never handed in the receipt for me, so I came back.”   
  


He hadn’t realized he moved until he registered the giggling below his chin, warmth curling around his chest and underneath his arms, Ryan’s breath tickling the crook of his neck and Shane unseeing and speechless because how does Ryan walk back here so put together, laughing like Shane hadn’t spent weeks thinking he’d ruined everything between them, smiling at him like Shane never said goodbye because  _ he was meant to come back _ -

He could barely push the laughter through his throat, the sounds coming out like gurgles in an ocean, almost unheard past the roaring of Shane’s blood in his ears. Ryan looked up at him like he’d hung the moon despite leaving him alone for  _ weeks  _ and- god-

“Aw, don’t cry, big guy-” Shane choked a little at their inside joke, one that only Shane ever got to make a say in except now Ryan’s reciprocating- “I’m sorry I never reached out to check on you.”

And Shane realized, then, how foolish cutting himself off was. Realized that he wasn’t the only one who lost a friend when he’d up and left like that.

“You’re- What?” Shane choked. “Wh- I- I was the one who should be sorry,” he said, grinning and chuckling because everything was okay now. Ryan came back. “I left without saying goodbye ‘cause I thought-”

He couldn’t help laughing, cause, god, for being a “perfect being”, he was- he was dumber than a koala (and trust him when he says that God  _ really  _ gave up on them).

“If you were hoping to get rid of me,” Ryan chortled, “I’ll let you know it isn’t that easy, baby. Nope, I’m here to be a pain in the ass for as long as eternity will grant me. There’s no return policy on this bitch.”

Shane wheezed. God, he was insufferable. He can’t believe he ever forgot that Ryan was witty and could stand his own ground in a battle of the snarks.

“BOYS!” Impicche yelled from behind them, startling them both. “As much as I love seeing Shane look alive again, this is an office with rows of desks lining the place. I’d like to cross.”

Around them, muffled giggles of watching coworkers arose and Shane and Ryan realized, embarrassingly, that they were still in public and sat themselves down, stealing a spare chair so Ryan could tuck into Shane’s desk with him, their knees (welcomed) hitting each others’. They burst out giggling again— after weeks apart, everything together felt so much funnier, no matter how stupid.

Shane gasped in a much-needed breath and gripped Ryan’s arm. “Shit! It’s 1PM, Ryan, don’t you have work?!”

“Oh my god, you’re still so high-strung,” Ryan smiled and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Today’s my day-off. If I hadn’t been gone for a month and a half, I would’ve come and visited earlier, but there was a lot of work I had to catch up on, weeks and weekends worth before the company excused me for my extended leave of absence.”

Shane sighed in relief and the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile again. It’s been a while since he last smiled so genuinely. It felt great. “Is that even legal?”

Ryan giggled, ironically the physical embodiment of light in the darkness. “Who even knows, man,” he said.

“So are you just gonna chill here all day or what? I have a job, too, y’know.”

“Oh don’t let me distract you, but yeah, I’m here. I meant it when I said you aren’t getting rid of this pain in the ass, big guy. I’m permanent. I’m a splinter stuck under your skin.”

Shane scoffed and put his hands in prayer, talking openly. “Dear God, I would like a refund on one Ryan Bergara. Unsatisfactory rating. Complete assh-  _ oof _ !” Ryan punched Shane’s shoulder, cackling to the amusement of everyone eavesdropping, and Shane joined him.

“God, you’re- you’re such a dick,” he wheezed through tears, trying to lower his voice to not be heard by the eavesdroppers. “I hope- I hope—  _ Ha! _ — that God didn’t actually hear that shit you just pulled. If I get smited because your stupid fucking prayer, I’m actually going to kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Shane said, equally heaving.

Every few minutes, their laughter died down, but then they’d make eye contact and they were fighting to control themselves again.

“Okay, for real, though,” Shane breathed, “I- I need to do work.”

“Yeah, yeah, just- go ahead,” Ryan said, out of breath and clutching his stomach before leaning back against his chair and holding his tummy because, fuck, that was a good laugh. He was stuck as a cat for a month and a half and then pined for another month, he earned this.

They went quiet for a good few minutes while Shane worked on some things, and then Ryan piped up. “I never realized you worked at this Buzzfeed office.”

“I?” Shane gave him a look. “I literally brought you here, did you not-”

“I was in a carrier! I couldn’t see!”

“You didn’t once question why I was doing video editing-”   
  


“I was a  _ cat-  _ I had other shit to worry about and you never told me the first time you dropped by my workplace, which, rude, by the way-”

“You watched me edit on weekends!!”

Ryan sighed into his hands, embarrassed, and Shane began laughing again, starting up another round between them.

“You’re insufferable,” Ryan uttered.

“You love it.”

His face was gonna hurt so bad after all of this, but it was fine. Things would be fine.

—

_ I can’t believe you think ghosts _

_ are real. _

_ Ur an angel! I can’t believe you _

_ think the fuck they dont!!! _

_ Ryan, if there are homicidal ghosts _

_ roaming the Earth, no offense to your _

_ kind but yall arent doing your _

_ FUCKING job _

_ Is it that hard to believe that the system _

_ isnt perfect and sometimes ppl might _

_ slip thru the cracks??? _

_ YES! Bc we do our jobs!!! Ghosts _

_ arent supposed to be roaming the _

_ fucking EARTH!!! _

_ What if you just think you haven’t seen _

_ any bc you see all existing beings, huh? _

_ What if you’ve seen a ghost before but _

_ just thought they were an actual human??? _

_ There’s so much evidence proving them _

_ All that evidence is horseshit _

_ HOW CAN YOU KNOW THAT?!? _

_ RYAN we WORK at a MEDIA COMPANY _

_ WE EDIT VIDEOS FOR A LIVING _

_ I can’t believe you don’t think Videos _

_ or photos can’t be edited!!!! _

_ Ur insufferable _

_ What about my insufferable? _

_ Jesus fucking Christ _

_ Close! But wrong guy! _

_ >:/ _

_ B) _

—

“Soooo…?”

Shane huffed an amused laugh. “What is it, Jen?” he slurred, tired. He’d spent all night yesterday texting Ryan until, like, 3AM. A big mistake, really, but it was worth it, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Really, the funniest part was when Ryan went silent for like a minute and it turns out Sara had chewed him out for cackling so much like HE was the witch at 2 in the morning. He made sure to be quiet after that, but Shane isn’t sure that he kept that promise judging by the last hour of their conversing.

“Who was the guy from yesterday?”

“Yeah, Shane, who was the guy from yesterday?” Andrew repeated, swiveling in from the desk behind Shane. He rolled his eyes.

  
“I don’t need to explain myself to you all.”

Brent laughed from the cluster of tables over, “Our boys are growing up so quick.”

“This shit doesn’t leave this plane of existence, Bennett, I  _ will  _ kill you.”

“I’m reporting you to HR,” he said, Shane rolling his eyes and then leaving the Jen and Andrew to hassle Brent for answers.


	14. Chapter 14

At work on Friday, Brent commented offhandedly that it’s been a while since he’s seen Ryan as happy as he had been on Wednesday. He was reluctant to admit that the remark was stuck in his head all day.

They’d spent all of Thursday afternoon and that Friday morning (early,  _ early  _ morning) chatting up a storm together, and Shane distantly wondered if they were driving Sara insane. Speaking of, they’d frequently gone from hours of texting to hours of video calling, and on occasion, Sara dropped into the call to chat and say hi before going off to do her own thing again.

Still, though, they didn’t organize anything together beyond Ryan’s surprise visit on Wednesday, which was why he wasn’t expecting his next surprise visit on Friday evening, almost startling Shane into dropping his coffee when Ryan materialized all of a sudden in his kitchen.

“Calm down-”

“FUCKING CHRIST, RYAN!!!”

“Dude, you’re fine-

“Doesn’t MATTER!! Don’t DO THAT!!!!”

Overall, the night almost went to shit for Shane, but they quickly reconciled, settling back into Shane’s couch— where they’d spent nights watching Netflix together— and put on a horror movie just for shits and giggles with the AC on because the early summer was setting in now. Just as a throwback, they put on “Annabelle Comes Home”, Ryan trying his best to at least be interested and respectful of the show but failing miserably due to Shane’s constant criticizing remarks.

“Simp,” he muttered towards the ending with “Annabelle” as an adult with the guy behind her, and Ryan choked, turning to Shane and cackling, “God, do you even know what that word means?”

He didn’t know if he was angry that Shane broke the tension leading up to the ending or what, he just regarded it all fondly.

As the end credits rolled on, though, Ryan grew quiet, laying atop Shane’s arm curled along the top of the couch. “Ryan?”

“I- Christ, please don’t turn me away if I get this out, Shane-” Ryan looked at him apprehensively- “I think I’m in love with you.”

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

Oh  _ no _ . What has he done?

“Ryan-” His eyes were filled with pity.  _ Dammit _ .

“Let me explain myself-!”

“-no-”

“-I knew you’d be like this! This happened of my own volition, Shane!” Ryan yelled. He couldn’t know that. They were stuck together, literally, for weeks— it was just natural that Ryan would end up liking the  _ enemy _ .

“You don’t know that!” Shane snarled, adamant that Ryan not stick to him out of obligation. This was fucked. This was so fucked.   
  


“I’ve had five weeks to think about it, Shane, and an extra six as a cat, I think I know myself better than you know me-”   
  


“It’s Stockholm syndrome, Ryan! You’re just in love with me because I looked after you!”

“It’s not Stockholm syndrome, Shane!!!”

“And how would you know?!”

“Because I’ve felt this way since before all that shit went down!!” Ryan shrieked. His hands were gesturing wildly across the air. They were face to face now, noses an inch away from one another’s, and breaths intermingling, ragged in frustration. He doesn’t know how their frustration got to this point.

They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, though, and all of a sudden, that moment was all they needed. They lunged at each other, hands grasping at each other's faces, worming under one another’s shirts and tracing the others’ body as light tickles on their skin. Their mouths were flushed together, hands traveling to their hair and pushing— deepening the kiss. Their lips caught on their teeth before they fell back against the sofa, struggling to get closer, fighting to feel each other beyond just the warmth they left on their skin and the love that polluted the air.

Shane’s wings slowly drew out, careful not to burn Ryan but stretching outwards, pressing more weight into him as he tried to kiss further into Ryan’s mouth. Below him, eyes closed, he heard Ryan groan and lean into it with him, a faint smile decorating the corners of his lips. Shane’s chest tightened, curling with warmth and dare he say love.

When they pulled back for air, they couldn’t tear their eyes from each other, heaving to fight off the vertigo of lightheadedness. Below his hands, resting on the space between Ryan’s shoulders and neck, he could feel his blood thrumming rhythmically through his veins like a hummingbird’s touch. Their hair was sticking out in multiple directions and lips red-tinted, Ryan’s face flushed entirely and Shane’s ears bright red, only visible in the dark of the apartment because of his wings. 

Shane giggled, starting off small before his wings were tucked away and Ryan was laying atop his chest laughing heartily with him, fighting off the tingles under his skin that jerked him on occasion.

Shane’s apartment was filled with laughter again and he wasn’t alone despite what the darkness that curled around them and around his mind whispered into his ears. They could’ve laid there in silence for hours, years even, letting time have its way with their bodies, and yet the love etched into Shane’s soul wouldn’t have chipped one bit.

It was perfect.

It was perfect before the moment was broken by Ryan’s phone pinging on the table beside Shane’s couch, and Shane felt his heart sink into the ground as he realized this treasured moment— one of their firsts— would have to come to an end. Ryan peered at the preview before looking at Shane with silent questioning in his eyes.

“Go,” Shane said, smiling reassuringly, and Ryan got up and snapped, ashes fluttering to the ground and breaking apart in the air before they could hit the floor, lightly singeing the back of Shane’s throat. The resounding echo that left the apartment empty now felt like a deal— a sinful temptation being met and sealed. 

And if that’s what this was, then it was the best deal Shane had ever shaken on in his life.

He laid back against his couch, staring blankly at the Netflix homepage, teardrop eyes heavied with exhaustion, fighting Shane to close.

He shot up without warning, though. 

Wait. 

What were they now? Did this make them boyfriends? Would he get to take Ryan out on dates now? Oh god. What do humans do for their partners?!

A beat of silence as Shane fell back against his couch again in shock.

Were they partners?!?

—

Saturday morning, Shane awoke at 6-something-AM to his phone ringing, the ringtone he’d set for Ryan reverberating through the living room. He picked up immediately and, dimly, he realized from last night that he should ask Ryan about what they were to each other now.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he said on autopilot and immediately leased a horrendous choking sound after, horrified at his own lack of filter. On the other end of the line, he heard Ryan wheeze timidly, “You’re insufferable,” and Shane, in turn, said, “You love it.”

The line was silent for a second before Shane realized Ryan was just chortling quietly again, and then— “Yeah. I guess I do,” Ryan said, and Shane’s mind blanched, not knowing how to respond and instead waving his hand into patterns on his couch where he still laid.

“What-” “So-”

They both paused and then laughed. “Go ahead, you first, little guy,” Shane said.

“No, no, you go first-”

“It’s fine, you first, Ryan, I need to brush my teeth anyway.”   
  


“You just got up?”

“You watched me wake up every day for a month and a half at, like, 7 in the morning, Ryan.”

“I don’t have an internal alarm clock, okay,” Ryan grumbled over the phone, “and sorry for waking you up.”

Shane yawned the remnants of his sleepiness away, stretching as he made his way to the restroom. “It’s fine, really, Ryan. So? What did you call me for?”

“...Have you, uh,” Ryan started, “have you heard anything about the Buzzfeed offices lately?” Shane replied no from his toilet to the phone perched atop one of the baskets of items he had in the restroom. “Well, word’s flying around that they’re going to be combining the offices.”

“Hold on, what? Why? Our building can barely even house the number of employees we have now?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said, “that’s why. They figured correspondence would be easier between workers if they weren’t separated between two offices and that it might cut down costs for maintenance, especially with fees, if we just had one building to manage.”

Shane hummed through the frothing toothpaste in his mouth. That made sense, he guessed, but damn, that’s a bomb to drop. He spat out the toothpaste. “How’d y’all find out about this?” he asked.

“‘Y’all’? Un-fucking-believable,” Ryan muttered, laughing.

“Answer the question, baby,” Shane said, listening to Ryan stammer before going back to brushing his teeth.

“The text last night was from our manager, had all of us gather for a video call just so he could announce the news. If all goes well, everyone will be in a new office by Friday.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in it for you?”

Ryan sighed. “The chosen location is, like, so much farther from my place, dude. Sara and I settled here because it was close to our office, like an eight-minute drive. This place is like 30 minutes away, dude. I mean, we’ve driven worse to get to work before, but it’s still a bit much if we factor in the early morning traffic.” Damn, would it be worse for Shane, too? His place was relatively close to his office. He didn’t want to have to wake up at the actual crack ass of dawn for work.

“What are you two looking to do?” asked Shane.

“I don’t know,” Ryan sighed. “I- Quinta, one of Sara’s and I’s close friends lived near the location— god knows how she managed to get to our office on time every day— and she’s offering a place to stay to split the rent, but she’s only got one spare bedroom. Sara won’t take the offer if I can’t find a place, myself, so we might go apartment hunting later.”

“Wait,” Shane said, “where is this potential new location?”

“I don’t know if you know it, but it’s near that- do you know the Hollywood Highschool and the Hollywood DMV? It’s gonna be in their vicinity, like, smack dab in the middle.”

“Dude. That highschool’s like, a two-minute walk from mine.”

“I- What!?”

Shane chuckled, listening to Ryan put down something ceramic. “Yeah, I think I kept you holed up too much at my place. The highschool is practically my neighbor, Ryan.”

Ryan grumbled on the other end of the line. “Fuck you, you’re so fucking lucky right now.”

“Move in with me.” He heard Ryan spit out a bunch of liquid like they do in comedies.

“What?! Were you-” Shane was cackling- “Were you drinking something?! That’s fucking hilarious!!” he yelled over Ryan’s cursing on the phone.

“You don’t drop shit like that on people, dude!” Ryan practically shrieked. Faintly, he heard Sara in the background ask what was going on. “Shane’s ass lives literally like within a five-minute drive of the new location and he straight up said, ‘Move in with me’ without any warning,” he said, to which Shane heard her start chuckling too and say, “He’s a keeper?”

“You’re both insufferable,” said Ryan.

“And I repeat,” Shane said, grinning, “you love it.”

The line went silent for a moment again.

“Were you serious?”   
  


“What?”

“When you told me to move in. Were you serious?” Ryan asked.

“I mean,” Shane rubbed the back of his neck even though he knew Ryan couldn’t see it, “yeah, I was dead serious. You were practically moved in for a month and a half, anyway, and you said Sara could hunker down with another friend if only you could, too. It’s basically killing three birds with one stone?”

“A place to stay and convenient workplace. What’s the third stone?”   
  


“Me. I’m the third stone, asshole. Can’t believe you don’t consider moving in with your boyfriend a plus.”

Ryan busts out laughing and Shane added, “Is it alright to call you that? Are we boyfriends now?”   
  


“Dude,” Ryan said, calming down, “I basically had my tongue down your throat last night, fuck yes, I’d love to be boyfriends. And sure, I’ll move in with you.”   
  


Shane grinned on his end of the line. “Well, tell Sara that you two better start packing.”

—

Monday, the news was officially announced to both Shane and Ryan’s offices. The plan would be that they began cleaning up the offices Monday and Tuesday in shifts— so some people could still push out content— and then Wednesday would be spent dropping things off and organizing the new office. They’d spend Thursday and Friday actually settling into new desks and readjusting to new people and each other.

Fortunately, Ryan and Sara had already begun packing on Saturday by Shane’s suggestion, and when they got off of work on Wednesday is when they began making trips between Sara and Ryan’s, Shane’s, and Quinta’s places to drop stuff off. And since their lease technically wasn’t up yet— not until the end of that week, as Shane had conveniently miracled it— they had the time to hand off their furniture for some extra cash before they would permanently stay with their respective new roommates.

You’d honestly think they’d grow bored of each other quickly, being that Thursday, Shane and Ryan had immediately set up shop with each other, but their work and time together were conveniently spaced out. Even if they did have important work to indulge in, though, they still frequently chatted, as evidenced by Friday, and when their coworkers who’d seen them together, namely Curly, Eugene, Kelsey, Brent (surprisingly STILL here), and Jen, there was no end to the teasing. (Shane would’ve thought Andrew would partake in the ribbing, too, but when he saw him with Steven, he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.)

They spent the weekend appropriately settling into their new life together— or, more accurately, Ryan’s new life with Shane. On occasion, Shane would still worry for Ryan what with him being so close to an Angel, but eventually, with some help from Brent and his ‘artifact’ as well, Ryan convinced Shane that his scent was dwarfed by Shane’s anyways and that even if he wasn’t around, Ryan wouldn’t have any problems. Or shouldn’t.

Sunday, Sara sends a moving gift just to be obnoxious, which consists of a shit load of condoms and a big thing of lube. Ryan embarrassingly stowed it away before Shane got back home.

Their days blend into constant loving pecks on one another’s cheeks or lips, stolen kisses made when others aren’t looking in the office, and the two of them generally being idiots on their own time. Shane’s apartment becomes less of a convenient place to stay or part of his pet project to stave off boredom and more of where Ryan and he spent most of their time laughing together.

Sometimes, Shane disappears for a couple of days, unable to resist his innate urges as an angel not to mention the annual quota he has to meet. But he never hurts Ryan and Ryan trusts that he isn’t picking off demons on a whim. Fortunately, the overrun city of Angels (literally) provides some cover for that, and Ryan himself is even put to the test when Gabriel drops in on a date between him and Shane (Shane was sweating fucking  _ buckets _ , how Gabriel didn’t notice, they didn’t know) and they only had to endure his teasing for a couple of minutes, but no claws came out or anything of the homicidal sort.

In the end, though, they forget a lot of the time that they’re still outliers in the world and outliers among their legions. A Demon and an Angel who both have an eternity to love and keep loving. Considering that Shane never Fell, he assumed the Big G was cool with it, but sometimes, he still worried.

They’d go through much more together between domesticity and actual times of bodily concern, but they stick together through and through in adventures we aren’t privy to. After all, save for one another, they’ve ever been the kind to kiss and tell.


	15. Chapter 15

“So, care to tell me what you’re doing?” Shane asked, narrowed eyes piercing Ryan’s figure as he watched him freeze in the middle of rifling through Shane’s side of the closet.

Ryan’s been acting weird. Really weird. It was Saturday and that morning, Ryan said he’d gone to the gym, but Shane couldn’t smell sweat off of him, nor did he glow like he normally did after having a workout.

Instead, he came by quickly and dropped off his duffel bag— way before he normally comes back home by the way— and then he said he had to meet with Steven about something. Shane called Steven after Ryan dematerialized out of pure suspicion. He and Ryan had zero plans together for the day.

So instead of going off to do his own thing like he usually did on Saturdays, he lounged around and waited for Ryan to come back home. He folded himself neatly (for a 6’4” guy) into the desk at the corner of their room, knowing Ryan usually came back while he was gone and that he might suspect Shane was out when he got back home.

Of course, this time, he wasn’t.

Now, this all sounds ridiculous and maybe he might just be a hint irrational. He knew Ryan. He doubted Ryan was cheating on him, and this was going too far for one day of suspicious activity, maybe, but it wasn’t just  _ that  _ day. No, for the last week or so, Ryan’s been staying at work later and later claiming he was trying to meet some deadline. When he got home, he could scent Sara’s floral perfume on him, and he knew that Sara left Buzzfeed earlier than even Shane.

So Shane waited, listened in when 30 minutes later, soot was scented in the air, indicating Ryan was back. He heard small shuffling footsteps, hesitant and pausing frequently like he was waiting before he eventually calmly headed to the bedroom, clearly thinking Shane was gone. Shane cleared his head. He was an angel who’s been hunting demons for millennia. He was built for this sneaking around.

The bedroom door creaked open and Ryan stepped in, beelining towards their closet, namely Shane’s side. He opened it hurriedly, rushing to rifle through it albeit carefully, trying his best to make it not look like someone hadn’t gone through his things. It was in vain.

Shane slowly crawled out from under the desk, its side having covered him in case Ryan turned around. He weaved skillfully under the desk chair, already moved for convenience, and stood up, masking his movement in Ryan’s own shuffling of his clothes.

“So, care to tell me what you’re doing?” Shane asked, and Ryan went rigid. He turned around slowly, disbelief and panic in his widened eyes as Shane stared him down sternly, knowing he looked imposing towering over Ryan who was kneeling on the floor.

“I- Uh-”

“What is it, babe? What were you looking through my stuff for?”

“Nothi-”   
  


“Oh, don’t be like that,” Shane cooed. He genuinely wasn’t angry. He was more curious, really, but Ryan being scared, as much as he hated to see it, really wasn’t coming off as all that innocent now. “You can keep looking. Go on, I’ll just watch.”

Ryan visibly gulped, not sure if this was a trap.

“OR. You could just tell me. Now, what were you looking for, Ryan?” He watches Ryan zone out, thinking things over in his head, and then his eyes dart to the closet, indicating he was back.

“I was, um, looking for the bed…”

Shane’s brows rose. “Bed?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said, “the banana one. Y’know, from when I was a cat.”

Shane stared at him. “What brought this on?”

And then he heard it. The small raspy meow coming from Ryan’s side, a bump in the pocket of his jacket. Ryan drew out a hand Shane hadn’t realized he’d been hiding… and revealed a small, ginger kitten.

“I was out for another rescue last Thursday and I found this little guy,” he said, petting it. “He was just there on the street and I waited around it for a good hour to see if a momma was coming back, and then on Friday, I went back again, and aside from it, I couldn’t find any other scent there. So, I scooped him up and, uh, brought him to a vet where they checked him over and had him stay for three days.

Eventually, he was given the all-clear and on Monday, I had an idea and brought him to Sara so she could sit it for a while and so I could finalize adoption forms and everything— buy the shit I needed to take care of a cat. I, uh, I wanted to surprise you. Since after I remembered that when I was ‘human’ again, you were really, um, sad.”

He looked up at Shane, still petting the kitten, and Shane just stood still in shock.

Ryan had gone through all that trouble for him? And he’d ruined the surprise?

Oh god, now he felt so fucking bad.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, Shane,” Ryan laughed reassuringly. “Really, I should’ve told you to expect a surprise so I didn’t have to do all this sneaking around. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

“Yeah, but I’m sorry for viewing you suspiciously, too. I should’ve just talked to you,” Shane said.

  
“Well, that’s what we’re doing. It’s fine now.”

“Yeah...” 

The little kitten meowed in Ryan’s hand, trying to lift its head shakily to take a look at Shane’s face. Shane squatted down to its level, smiling. “Wait here,” he said, and then dug around under his bed… pulling out Ryan’s banana bed still filled with Ryan’s toast collar and cat teasers.

“I’ll have to throw it in the washer first to clean it of all the dust and shit on it, but it should still be good. It’s only been six months since it was last used, after all.”

“Jesus Christ, six months? It felt like fucking yesterday,” Ryan said.

“Hey! No cussing around our son!”

“He’s a cat!! He doesn’t understand,” Ryan cackled. “And  _ our  _ son?”

“Yes,” Shane said, sticking his nose up at Ryan condescendingly. “He’s our boy, now, and I shan’t have you tainting his ears at such a young age.” Ryan guffawed.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”   
  


“Unfortunately. What are we gonna name him?”

“You haven’t picked one yet?”

“Nah. I wanted to reserve that honor for you.”   
  


Shane was silent for a beat. “I love you so fucking much, I hope you know that,” he beamed.

“Yeah, I love you, too, you big dork,” Ryan laughed in tandem.

He looked to the orange kitten on the floor now, watching it inspect its surroundings apprehensively before sniffing at Shane’s feet and then returning to Ryan’s familiar hands.

Shane stuck out a hand, petting it.

“I think we should name him… Obi.”

The End.


End file.
